


Burn Brightly

by keirajo



Series: The Decepticon Emperor and His Autobot Lover [9]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Conflict, Danger, M/M, Multi, Romance, Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Violence, War, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 99,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: An upcoming celebration.   An upcoming wedding.  Three sides locked into a new war.Bonds are strained, loyalty is tested, friendships are made and solidified.The war with Starscream and his Destrons are beginning in more depth and intensity, it will take the Autobots solidifying their alliance with the Decepticons and the introduction of new allies to keep fighting and forging a path forward into the future.   And one single mech may be the one to bring them all together for once and for all!





	1. Tiny Visitors

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of set up and introduction of new characters! :D
> 
> It's been my idea for this series to expand out the universe to begin encompassing the anime and animated series that came afterwards, when the original 1980's cartoon ended. Some series won't fit completely in the G1 universe, but I can steal things from them to make them fit. XD

**_ Burn Brightly _ **

 

 

_ Chapter One:  Tiny Visitors _

 

            It was just another _normal_ week in the Autobot Embassy on Chaar.   Hot Rod had been back for several weeks now and had been in consistent contact with Soundwave or Captain Deszaras himself over the Transformers they’ve found and what was going on out there on the frontier.   They’d run into _some_ of Starscream’s forces a couple more times—and, _unfortunately_ , lost a few more mechs and femmes they’d hoped to save—but routed the enemies fairly easily when they encountered them.  

            They _hadn’t_ run into Starscream himself again, thankfully.

            Stormbreaker was just very nearly one year old now—another week and she’d finally turn one.   She hadn’t yet had that growth spurt they’d all been anticipating and her armour had solidified again.   So, Hot Rod had taken her to the clinic to ask Hook if he had any idea what was going on.   The Constructicon medic had thoroughly examined the squirming little femme—who giggled a lot and batted playfully at Hook’s instruments.   And he’d found that she’d had a _lot of changes on the inside_ , rather than a physical change to her frame.   Her T-Cog looked a lot more formed up than Novablaze’s had at her age and her core frame skeleton had _thickened_ , rather than lengthened.

            Hook postulated that it may mean when she had her growth spurt for her frame, she’d grow a lot larger at a faster pace than Novablaze had.   He thought that the way her core frame skeleton had grown, she’d probably reach maturity and her full frame form sooner than Novablaze would—at least as far as number of years went.   So, say Novablaze would reach his full frame form by the age of 20—Hook postulated that perhaps Stormbreaker might reach her full frame form by the age of 15.

            It was all very theoretical, especially as sparklings didn’t even exist until now and there was no telling which of the two sparklings had a “ _normal growth_ ” and which of them had a “ _special growth_ ” (whether positive or negative).   Hook forwarded his medical examination to First Aid on Cybertron to see if the Autobot’s CMO had any particular theories or postulations on the matter.

            But since she was at a toddling stage now—trying to stand up and walk a lot more than before—Hot Rod had asked the Constructicons to make a playpen for her and showed them designs on what the object was from Earth.   She was a lot more active than Novablaze had been, who’d always preferred to sit obediently on the floor near his carrier and play with his toys.   He was afraid that Stormbreaker might just try to wander out of the room while he was working and since the offices were on the second floor of the embassy—he didn’t want the little femme to try and make her way upstairs (where the habitation area was) or downstairs (where the main public area was) and quite possibly hurt herself in trying to manage stairs with her wobbly legs and unsteady pedes.

            Galvatron had laughed when he saw the playpen.   He’d asked why Hot Rod was putting their little femmeling _in a cell_ and proceeded to tease his secondborn sparkling mercilessly the whole day long when he’d visited that first time he’d seen the playpen.   Stormbreaker didn’t seem to understand that her sire was teasing her though and was just happy and excited for all of Galvatron’s sudden attention on her.   Novablaze caught on to his sire’s teasing and laughed at his sister in her “ _baby jail_ ” a lot more than he should have—that, too, Stormbreaker didn’t seem to understand………..only that she was getting _lots and lots of attention_ while in her playpen crawling and toddling about.

            **_She loved the attention!_**    So she actually seemed to be happy playing in her playpen in the center of Hot Rod’s office.   Stormbreaker would babble and say her little half-formed words to her toys and cry “ _cwah!_ ” when she wanted Hot Rod’s attention specifically.    She squeal “ _swah!_ ” whenever Galvatron entered the embassy and she felt his powerful and familiar EM field.    When Novablaze would come in and peer over into the playpen, she’d babble and say her half-formed words to him—the firstborn sparkling was given the word “ _Nvah_ ”, which was close enough to Novablaze for her beginning-to-speak language—holding up her battered plush kitty for him to pet.

            This particular day, as the young flame-colored mech was preparing for a visit from a few ambassadors of Earth, from the Athenia embassy base, and Optimus Prime was coming to speak with Hot Rod and Galvatron about the upcoming opening of the entertainment district on Chaar in several more months.   They were going to discuss the number and who from the Autobots would come (or be able to come) to the grand opening.   Spike, on behalf of Earth, was coming along to see about a liaison from Earth to Chaar in the future—because, like Hot Rod, Spike wanted to see Galvatron grow into his true potential and ensure the final ending to the war with an eventual true peace treaty.   Daniel was tagging along to hopefully later talk to Hot Rod about his upcoming wedding, which would happen about a month after the opening of the entertainment district…………..and babysit Stormbreaker for a little bit, just because he liked taking care of his Autobot “ _big brother’s_ ” children.

            So, the former Autobot Leader was working hard to get some of his daily administrative work done before his visitors arrived.   He was quite surprised to hear a strange warbling sound and see a small mech had climbed on top of his brand-new desk and was looking at him with both curiousity and excitement, settled on his servos and knee-joints.   When the flame-colored mech looked up from his computer screen, he saw another small mech clinging to the front edge of his desk with his optics just over the edge, looking at him—while a third small mech was over by Stormbreaker’s playpen, warbling at her happily.

            “Where did you little guys all come from?”   Hot Rod chuckled, apprising the three of them carefully.   They were all smaller than Novablaze, but a little bit larger than Stormbreaker—and they **_definitely_** didn’t look like sparklings, their frames had a completed “ _adult_ ” look to them.   They were a bit smaller than the mini-bot type of frame, like Pipes and Outback.

            They had a general similarity to their looks, all aerial types, quite obviously with the wing panels on their backs, with colors of blue and white primarily and a few runner lines of yellow and red.   But there were a few differences in the helms, gauntlets and boots of their frames so that you could tell the difference between the three of them easily.

            That was when Hot Rod noticed that Stormbreaker was warbling back to the mech by her playpen, able to speak their strange language quite easily.   She was trying to push the plush kitty through the mesh of the playpen so that the mech she was talking to could pet it—and **_that_** simply wasn’t working at all!

            “ _Oh, hey_ ………..they found you so fast!”  Sixshot laughed, entering the open door to the office.   “I can’t speak their language, but Soundwave was translating for us before we left—these little guys _really_ wanted to see you for some reason, so they hitched a ride back to Chaar with us when I brought more back and Deszaras decided to stay back there and work some more on finding others.”

            “ _Ah_ , but I’ve never seen Transformers like this before—who are they, Sixshot?”   The flame-colored mech asked, smiling at the one on top of his desk with a grin of warmth and greeting.

            “This one is Skyboom,” the old Decepticon warrior chuckled, pointing down at the mech talking with Stormbreaker as he walked past.   “This one is Wreckage,” he added, pointing to the one clinging to the edge of the desk and barely peering over it.   “And the _very friendly one_ is Scattor,” he concluded, pointing to the one on servos and knee-joints in the center of Hot Rod’s new desk.    “They’re a rare type of our species that a Decepticon named Doubledealer called _‘Mini-Cons’_ ………..he had befriended a number of them on Feilan.   Given the moniker, I don’t believe they’re Decepticons—nor are they Autobots.   I think they just like to be around fellow Cybertronians.   Doubledealer said they’re _really, really old_ —Vector Sigma hasn’t made their type since the uprising against the Quintessons.   They speak one of the old slave languages.”

            “ _Oh, I see_.   Oddly, Storm seems to be able to hold a conversation with _that one_ —Skyboom,” Hot Rod answered, as he looked over and saw his femmeling warbling at the Mini-Con again, still trying to push her plush kitty through the mesh of the playpen.   “She can’t even hold a conversation with _me_!”   He laughed.

            Sixshot leaned over the playpen and pulled Stormbreaker out carefully, kneeling and setting her down in front of Skyboom.   She stood, a bit wobbly on her pedes, and thrust the kitty at Skyboom excitedly—now that the mesh of the playpen was not in the way.   The Mini-Con warbled happily and stroked the plush kitty tenderly.   That made Stormbreaker warble happily in return and she clutched the kitty to her, holding on tightly and swaying on her legs—with Sixshot’s careful servo near her back.

            “Why does she always want people to pet her plush cat?”  Sixshot asked, curiously, looking up at Hot Rod as he walked over to where they were.

            The other two Mini-Cons, Scattor and Wreckage, hopped off the desk and came over to where the rest of them were.   They began to warble in their strange language and talked to each other and Stormbreaker.   She pushed the kitty at all of them and they petted it gently.   Even Sixshot and Hot Rod reached over to pet the plush kitty when it was thrust at them.

            “I think it’s her way of greeting, since she can’t speak complete words yet—she’s been doing it since before she could speak, so I really think it’s just a form of greeting,” the flame-colored mech answered, chuckling warmly.

            “I suppose _that_ makes sense,” the old warrior chuckled, picking the femmeling up and placing her back in the playpen.   Then he walked over to the couch and sat down.   The Mini-Cons just kind of wandered about the room, looking everywhere and Stormbreaker stood up in her playpen to watch them and talk to them in that strange warbling language.   “I still don’t know _why_ they wanted to see _you_ , in particular, so much, but maybe they want to work at the embassy?   So, I thought I’d bring them over, since Onslaught cleared them to live on Chaar and Hook cleared them medically.”

            All of the sudden, a _very familiar_ EM field washed over them all and the Mini-Cons looked around, the glow in their optics intense with surprise.

            “ _Swah!   Swah!   Swah!_ ”  Stormbreaker began crying, loudly, knowing her sire was in the building.

            “Yes, apparently your sire is here early,” Hot Rod chuckled, head turning towards the doorway just as Galvatron strode in.

            “You did not say you had company, my Prime!”  Galvatron said, the frown on his lips melting into the slight disappointment in his voice.

            “These Mini-Cons came in from the frontier……….they may want to work at my embassy,” Hot Rod answered, walking over to his lover and reaching up to pat his faceplate fondly.   “Stormbreaker can speak their language.”

            “What do you mean?   All I have heard are _sparkling words_ since I walked into the room!”  Galvatron chortled, walking over to the playpen and gazing down at the little femmeling repeating “ _Swah!_ ” excitedly up at him.   She held up her plush kitty and cried “ _Swah!_ ” several more times until the Leader of the Decepticons followed the proper ritual of petting the plush cat and then plucked her up to settle her in the crook of his arm.   She burrowed against his chestplate, repeating “ _Swah!_ ” happily several more times before purring and babbling softly against her sire.

            The three Mini-Cons had huddled together near Sixshot’s crossed legs and stared up at Galvatron in complete and utter awe, warbling softly in their own language.   The massive war machine gazed down at them, _imperiously_ , and the whole tone of seriousness was most definitely undermined by the femmeling being allowed to snuggle happily against the serious Decepticon Leader.   Stormbreaker looked down at the three Mini-Cons and made a grabby-hand gesture at them, warbling in their language.   That made Galvatron gaze down at his secondborn sparkling in surprise—apparently she _really could_ speak these strange small Transformers’ language!

            “Apparently you are right, my Prime—she _can_ speak their odd language,” Galvatron responded, a slow smile curving his lips.   “When is the meeting again?   I did not want to bother Cyclonus by asking him, as he is busy doing some technical upgrades at the palace today.”

            “You’re a bit early, yet—the ship from Earth shouldn’t get here for another hour,” Hot Rod answered.   He was proud of Galvatron for trying to be diplomatic about all of this.   He knew the Decepticon Leader didn’t care and would prefer to have Cyclonus attend something like this and explain it to him later, but Hot Rod convinced his powerful lover that to show his presence and interest in things that would affect his empire’s future was the mark of a good ruler.

            And so, Galvatron did as he was instructed.   Cyclonus also complimented him very often recently on how great he was becoming at general politics.   Galvatron knew that all he really had to do was _sit there_ —offer input _if_ he had it—and Hot Rod would explain the details of what everything was about later.   He resolved to be able to sit for a couple hours, just to satisfy everyone that he was a great leader (because, _of course_ , he already **_knew_** he was!).

            “ _Mmmm_.   Then I should like some light fuel and rest, let us go down to your commissary and acquire some light fuel while we rest for the next hour,” Galvatron said, commandingly.   He noticed the Mini-Cons looking eagerly at him when he said “ _fuel_ ”.   “I suppose your new staff may join us as well.   Sixshot, what about you?”   He asked of his powerful old warrior.

            “I’m fine, Lord Galvatron,” the older Decepticon chuckled, rising to his pedes.   “I came to bring these three to Hot Rod and perhaps visit Slipstream.”

            The Decepticon femme had slowly opened up and relaxed around people, once she settled in at the embassy.   She and Sixshot had often been seen together, when the old warrior was on the planet at the rare instances the past few weeks.   It may have been friendship, it may have been more than that, but it was nobody else’s business but theirs.   And nobody really made a big deal about it.

            “Then let us go to your commissary and get some light fuel,” Galvatron said, his voice definite and commanding.   “I wish to watch my little Stormbreaker try to drink from her fuel cup!”   He chuckled, reaching down with his free hand to rub her helm fondly.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Optimus Prime brought Ultra Magnus with him to the conference, while Spike had a male with him around his own age.   Daniel had come along, as well, but Hot Rod was instantly asked to leave Stormbreaker in his human little brother’s care.   He said he had _another_ to babysit as well and he’d take them to the entertainment lounge.

            “She’s trying to walk, but isn’t too speedy yet—so, just try to keep the door closed so she doesn’t wander off on you,” Hot Rod chuckled as he set the femmeling on the floor and placed a tote with all her toys and her blanket nearby.   “But why do you have _another_ to babysit?   Did someone bring a _child_ to Chaar?   And _why_?”  The flame-colored mech asked softly.

            “Oh, Doctor Jones brought his son with him—the kid’s like glued to his dad,” Daniel laughed as he squatted down and gently rubbed Stormbreaker’s helm.   He obediently pet the plush kitty when she thrust it at him.   “I told dad that I’d come along and babysit for Doctor Jones, as well as the whole speaking with you about the wedding thing.   Kicker likes me……so it’s fine—and I figured I’d offer to watch Stormy for you, too.”

            Then he looked over at the three Mini-Cons, who were still trailing around in Hot Rod’s wake for some reason.

            “Looks like you have _new friends_ , big bro,” the twenty-year-old laughed warmly.

            “They’re Skyboom, Wreckage and Scattor—I need to find a way to communicate with them, they speak a very old Cybertronian language that we don’t,” Hot Rod responded with a sigh.  “Though Storm can talk to them…………oddly enough.”    Then the flame-colored mech paused and read a glyph-message from Galvatron that said he’d better hurry up and get to the conference room or the Decepticon Leader would _die from boredom_.   “Galvatron’s ordering me to get to the conference room, so………..” he trailed off, just about to turn around and head out when the door opened.

            “ ** _Oh!_** _Daniel!_    I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find this entertainment lounge place, but the female Decepticon showed me where it was!”  A deep human male voice said with a deep sigh of relief.   “Kicker’s pouting, but…….. _come on, son_ —you like hanging out with Daniel, stop pouting………” the human father muttered softly, picking up the boy and walking into the room.

            “What’s _that_?   What are _those things_?”   The little boy with brown hair and brown eyes complained, pointing at Stormbreaker and then the three Mini-Cons, holding tight to his father’s shoulder.

            “Hot Rod, this is Thomas Jones and his son, Kicker,” Daniel introduced, standing up straight and motioning over at the humans.   “Doctor Jones is a geologist and also researches alternative energy sources.   He and his family moved to Athenia, so he could become an ambassador and research on other worlds besides Earth.”

            The slender, older male had light brown hair that brushed his shoulders and a neatly trimmed beard.   He also wore a typical white lab coat that doctors and scientists wore.   He smiled up at Hot Rod and nodded his head politely.

            “Nice to meet you, Hot Rod—I remember when you were the Autobot Leader.   _Thank you for your sacrifice and saving Earth from the hate plague_ ,” Doctor Jones responded, politely.   “Kicker, say _‘hi’_ to the Autobot Ambassador to Chaar……….”

            Kicker frowned, the eight-year-old boy was unhappy to be anywhere that meant he was about to be parted from his father.   Suddenly, his short brown hair looked like it was changing to a glowing blonde.   “Too much Energon in the room.   Don’t wanna stay……….” the boy pouted softly, clinging to his father’s shoulder.

            “Kicker has an odd sense of _extrasensory perception_ ,” Doctor Jones responded when Hot Rod looked down at him curiously.

            “He’s got an EM field— _he can sense EM fields_ ,” the flame-colored mech said, feeling the little boy’s anxiety very clearly.   He’d **_never_** encountered a human with an EM field strong enough to interact with a Transformers’ field.   “Well, _jeeze_ …………and Galvatron’s here, no wonder he feels uncomfortable, too.   But sense of Energon—it must be us _adult mechs_.   We’ll go and he’ll feel better with just Danny and my little femmeling.”

            “Is _that_ what that thing is?”   Kicker asked, pointing at Stormbreaker again.

            “Kicker, Stormbreaker’s **_not_** a _‘thing’_ —she is a _baby Transformer_ ,” Daniel said, very firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing at the little boy.

            “ _She is not!   That’s **not possible**!   Robots **can’t** have babies!_”  Kicker said in pure disbelief as he let his father set him down.   He stared incredulously at the femmeling holding up her plush kitty towards him.   “What’s she doing?”   He asked.

            “She wants you to pet her kitty,” Hot Rod said with a warm chuckle.   “Since she can’t speak a lot of words yet, this is the way we think she greets people and makes friends with them.”

            Doctor Jones laughed warmly, charmed at how very baby-ish Stormbreaker was.   He knew all of the news reports about Rodimus Prime’s first sparkling, Novablaze, and heard about the second one— _this one_ —but he never thought he’d see an infant Transformer ever.   The older human squatted down and gently pet the plush kitty.   She babbled happily at the human and bounced the kitty in front of her, before holding it out to Kicker again.

            “She is _very cute_ , Hot Rod,” Doctor Jones responded, standing up and grinning at the flame-colored mech.   “Give her kitty a pat, Kicker—she really wants you to be friends with her,” he said, gently patting his son on the back.

            “ _Ummm……….okay_ ,” the eight-year-old boy mumbled, his hair still lightly glowing golden and floating about his head.   Kicker reached down and gave the worn plush a light pat on the top of its head and smiled when Stormbreaker babbled happily at him.   “She’s kinda like sis………….” he murmured, looking up at his father.

            “That’s right.   And if I’m correct, then the ages of your two children are pretty close to my own kids’ ages, Hot Rod,” Doctor Jones laughed warmly.

            “You have another?”  Kicker asked as he looked up at Hot Rod, his brown eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

            “My eldest, _Novablaze_ —he’s seven years old now,” the flame-colored mech answered with a grin.   “He’s kinda spending the day with Cyclonus, to see what Cyclonus does in administration duties.”

            “But you’re a **_boy_**.   _How can a boy have babies_?”   Kicker muttered, really confused at the whole thing.   He may not understand all adult things, but he knew _only moms_ had babies— _not dads_.   “How can _robots_ even have babies?”   He asked, staring up at Hot Rod.

            Daniel roared with laughter as both Hot Rod and Doctor Jones looked a little nervous and kind of made little unintelligible mumbling sounds.   “Even though many Transformers claim specific genders, their bodies don’t conform to what we understand as _‘boys’_ and _‘girls’_ —you’ll understand a lot more when you’re older, kiddo,” the twenty-year-old laughed softly, reaching over and tousling Kicker’s hair.   “As for them being robots, well…………they’re _not_ robots like you see in cartoons, Kicker—you’ll also understand _that_ when you’re older, too,” Daniel added, his voice fond and warm.

            Hot Rod suddenly realized…………..his human little brother would make a very good father.   It’s strange—Hot Rod became a good parent like he was, because of all the years he spent with Daniel.   Now Daniel was going to probably one day be a very great father, because of all the time the human teenager spent with Hot Rod’s own children…………as well as this other human boy.   It was like life came around full-circle for them both.

            “ ** _UGH_**.   Galvatron just glyphed me _again_ , I’d better get going,” Hot Rod groaned as the message popped up on his HUD, all the glyphs in **_very extremely bold font_**.   “Let’s go, Doctor Jones………I’ll show you to the conference room we’re using.   Danny, good luck with the kids—‘kay?   _Um_ ……….you three……..why don’t you go walk around the embassy and get used to where things are?   The habitation area’s on the third floor, you can go ahead and choose a room that has an open door and looks empty inside, okay?”

            The Mini-Cons gazed up at Hot Rod and nodded, warbling happily.

            “We’ll have lots of fun, just the three of us,” Daniel laughed, pulling Kicker against him in a “ _big brother hug_ ”.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Well, hello there little ones,” Slipstream said when she encountered the three Mini-Cons wandering about on the third floor.

            They warbled up at her in their own language and then Skyboom pointed at one of the empty rooms with its door open.   He pointed at the three of them and then at the room, warbling softly with query in the tone.

            “You want _that room_?   Are you going to stay here at the embassy with us?”  The Decepticon femme asked, softly, smiling down at them.

            The three Mini-Cons nodded eagerly.   So she walked in there with them.   They clambered up onto the large berth—which was designed for a standard mech or femme, but was pretty large for the three of them together.   The Mini-Cons looked very happy, warbling at each other.   But then they suddenly came to attention and hopped off the berth to run over to the window.   Slipstream, curiously, followed them and looked out.

            _That_ wasn’t right.   She saw a shadow moving around on the embassy grounds.

 

**|Sixshot, have you left yet?|**

**|No, I’m down in the lobby.   Why?|**

**|There’s someone skulking on the embassy grounds.   I think it’s Flamewar.|**

**|I’ll check it out.   Galvatron definitely won’t be happy except in the fact that she’s finally making an overt move that he can crush her for.   She’s been warned the embassy is off-limits.|**

 

            The purple-and-teal femme watched carefully out the window.   The Mini-Cons were also watching very carefully.    They saw Sixshot carefully walking around and Slipstream glyphed him with updates on the shadow’s moving path.   All of the sudden, the three Mini-Cons changed into their alt modes and swooped down to where Sixshot was and merged together to become a sword of some sort.

            Sixshot was momentarily surprised, but grabbed the sword fast when an energy bolt came at him, deflecting the shot skillfully.

            _That_ was definitely from Flamewar’s bow.

            “Thank you little ones, now let’s get that that little assassin,” the old Decepticon warrior chuckled.   He tossed the sword up and transformed into his Panther form, speeding fast and pounced instantly on Flamewar.   As he moved, he glyphed Onslaught and Cyclonus right away.   He transformed into his primary mode and held the femme down.

            The Mini-Cons assisted by taking the bow away and pinning her wrists to the ground, somehow _knowing_ she had blades in her wrists that could be used.   Cyclonus was there first, with Novablaze trailing behind him.   The two transformed into their primary modes and Cyclonus warned Novablaze to stand back, then strode forwards.

            “In the name of the Decepticon Empire and Lord Galvatron, I place you under arrest, Flamewar,” Cyclonus snapped softly, aiming his weapon down at her.  Then he briefly glanced at the Combaticon commander as he approached.   “Onslaught, I caution you to take great care and ensure she is restrained properly in her cell.   Lord Galvatron will wish to interrogate her himself, once he has completed his conference today.”

            “Do you think I’d allow myself to be captured _so easily_ , Cyclonus?”  Flamewar laughed.   “It’s called _‘playing the long game’_ and I’m really quite good at it.   This is part of my plan.”

            Sixshot was very tempted to clock her one against her helm and rattle her brain module a bit.

            “Cyclonus, _she’s not lying_ …………she’s got a plan,” Novablaze said, quietly, apprising the femme who’d been assumed to be a Decepticon that came in from the frontier.   “I know sire is powerful and will try to hurt her to get her to talk, but I think she can endure _lots of hurting_.”

            The youngling looked around and saw the Mini-Con holding Flamewar’s energy bow.   Skyboom looked at the young purple-colored mech curiously, warbling at him.   Novablaze tilted his head, almost able to make out what the Mini-Con was saying.   Skyboom pointed up to the top of the embassy building.

            “ _There’s another one, Cyclonus!_    There’s _another Transformer_ here—on top of the building!”   Novablaze said, quickly, pointing where the Mini-Con was pointing.

            Cyclonus gave a low growl and transformed instantly into his aerial mode, opening his thrusters to full and shot up towards the top of the building in seconds, only to be startled by a small teal-and-grey bird-form Transformer shooting off into the sky from below his pointed fore.

            _‘A Cassetticon?’_   Cyclonus thought to himself, barrel-rolling to turn quickly and pursue the Eagle-shaped mech _.   ‘Starscream did not just have Flamewar here as a spy—he had a stealthy little Cassetticon to spy on us as well and convey information back to him!’_

            Squawktalk was swifter and smaller than Cyclonus and outpaced the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command quickly, flying off into space before the purple space jet could catch up with him.

            _‘Starscream must also have a spy in the system, too—there is no way that little Cassetticon could fly all the way back out to his base on the frontier alone.   It would not have enough fuel or be able to endure some of the pressures of space flight,’_ Cyclonus thought, pulling off his pursuit to mull matters so that he can bring them to Galvatron immediately.   _‘One of the other planets in the system?   Has he put a small force on one of the planets we have not approached yet?’_    The loyal lieutenant transformed back into his primary mode and landed.

            Onslaught had completely cuffed and bound up Flamewar.   He gave a polite salute to Cyclonus when the purple-and-grey mech landed.   “I will see to it that she is carefully locked up with an armed guard at all times until Lord Galvatron is ready to speak with her,” the Combaticon commander responded.

            “I’ll go along to make sure nothing unexpected happens,” Sixshot said with a deep grunt of annoyance.

            Scattor and Wreckage walked over to Skyboom and they began speaking to one another in their odd, warbling language.   Novablaze tilted his head, listening to them.

            “Then you should go along too,” the youngling said.   “If you’re really worried, you know.”

            The Mini-Cons all looked at him and nodded.

            “Sixshot—the Mini-Cons want to go with you to watch over Flamewar,” Novablaze said, looking up at the old Decepticon warrior.

            “Can you understand them, too, Nova?”  Sixshot asked, curiously, as the three little mechs gathered around his feet.

            “ _Kinda_.   Not completely, but I get what they’re saying,” the youngling answered.   “Why ask that?”

            “Because your sister can talk to them in their warbling language,” the old warrior chuckled, reaching down and patting Novablaze on the helm.   “All right, little ones…………let’s go guard the prisoner with Onslaught.”

            As soon as the small group left, Novablaze looked up at Cyclonus, who had a deep scowl on his faceplate.

            “Cyclonus?   Is something wrong?”   Novablaze asked, worried at his sire’s lieutenant’s expression.

            “That Cassetticon cannot survive the sheer distance in space to where Starscream’s base is hidden out on the frontier,” the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command grumbled.    “They must have established some kind of small outpost nearby, perhaps on one of the other planets in this system.”

            Novablaze frowned, too.   Cyclonus was _probably right_.   He knew that it took days and days on a ship to get out to the frontier, that little Destron Eagle-form mech couldn’t possibly fly all the way back out to the frontier on his own.   That meant………..Starscream had some place to have information sent back to him from that was _near Chaar itself_.    And if Starscream had forces that were _that close_ , then he could plan for an assault at any time on Chaar.   And probably the only reason he was waiting so long was………..

            “He was trying to figure out where things are on Chaar, right?   To find out where the security is?   Where the important buildings and people are?”  Novablaze responded, looking up at his teacher, worry making his optics go dimmer.

            “ _Yes._    That is exactly what I think, as well,” Cyclonus responded, smiling down at the youngling.   “You have a good grasp of many things already, young lord.   You will make a fine ruler one day, if your sire must step down.”

            “Thanks, Cyclonus!”   Novablaze said, happily, his deep blue glass-covered optics glowing with his cheerfulness.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The very moment they took a break from talking, Galvatron read the glyph he’d received from Cyclonus and bolted up from his chair, growling unintelligibly.

            “ _We are done for today!_    I am **_not_** coming back, as I have something important to take care of!”  Galvatron snarled, just about to spin around and stomp from the conference room.

            Hot Rod quickly grabbed his lover’s arm.   “ _What’s wrong?   What happened?_ ”   The flame-colored mech asked, softly.

            “Flamewar _finally_ revealed her true colors,” Galvatron said, softly.   “She’s been taken into custody and I intend to make her speak on what Starscream’s plans are!”   He snapped quietly, his voice low enough to not be heard by more than Hot Rod next to him.   “You take care of the remainder of this conference.  I trust you to hold Chaar’s interests to your Spark.”

            “ _Of course_ , but Galvatron………..” Hot Rod began, still holding onto his powerful lover’s arm.

            “Do not tell me to go easy on her, _I shall not_ ,” the Decepticon Leader said with a sharp snort.

            “Yeah, I get that………….but _don’t kill her_ —it’s not right,” the flame-colored murmured, staring up into the glowing red optics.

            “Galvatron—the Autobots are still invested in stopping Starscream.   Will you share the information you get from your captive?”  Optimus Prime said, just loud enough to notify the two mechs that they could indeed be heard.   “A dead prisoner can give you _nothing_ ,” he added, reinforcing Hot Rod’s words not to kill Flamewar.

            “ _Pfft._   Of course,” Galvatron responded, waving a servo back at the Autobot Leader and walked out of the room as quickly as he could with still looking as regal as an Emperor should.

            Hot Rod, a deeply worried look on his faceplate, sat back down at the conference table.

            “ _Gah_ ………he was making such great progress, but he’s still so feral sometimes,” the flame-colored mech sighed.   “I don’t want him to change—I want him to become who he’s really supposed to be, _dammit_ …………”

            “Well, it’s not going to happen in just a handful of years, Hot Rod,” Ultra Magnus said with a light chuckle, reaching over to pat his young friend’s shoulder.

            “It’s true—I know **_I_** won’t live long enough to see it, but I know you’ll get there eventually, son,” Spike said with a warm laugh.   “We’ll continue a few things without him and then you can relay it all to him later.   Thomas, I know you have a theory about Chaar, so let’s hear it?”  The long-time human friend of the Autobots said with a smile over at his own human friend.

            “Well, I’d have to do a few geological surveys, but there’s no such thing as a _wasteland planet_ ,” the scientist began, chuckling softly.   “I’d be willing to bet my Master’s Degree that Chaar has some prime mineral finds under its surface.”

            “But if it were something that could convert into Energon, Soundwave would’ve figured that out by now—he and Shockwave were the ones that figured out what Earth resources could be converted into Energon,” Optimus Prime responded, gazing down at the human scientist.

            “That’s the problem with you Transformers—you relate _everything_ to Energon,” Doctor Jones laughed, waggling a finger at the Autobot Leader.

            “You mean minerals like gold or silver, don’t you?”  Hot Rod asked, gazing at the man curiously.   Some long while ago, he’d brought up to Galvatron that to make his Empire he needed to learn what trades could be made with other civilized worlds in the universe.   While mineral elements such as gold or silver or precious jewels had no real value to the Transformer species—such things could be used as trade for things that Galvatron or the Decepticons might truly covet.

            “Yes, precious metals and jewels—the environment of Chaar looks very favorable to those minerals to form,” Doctor Jones responded, smiling up at Hot Rod.    “Or likely, some other form of minerals we Earthlings may not know, as well.   That’s why I’d like to do a geological survey of Chaar.”

            “Galvatron has no clue _what that is_ or **_why_** you’d want to do it.   He doesn’t have much care for fleshlings and………….Chaar doesn’t have an easy environment for your species.   I keep an atmosphere in the embassy for visitors like you guys,” Hot Rod said.  “But I, personally, think it might be a good idea to do the survey.”

            “Thomas and I have done some revamping on the exo-suits so that they’re a bit easier to move around in, have more dexterity and can withstand more atmospheric or no atmospheric pressures,” Spike responded, looking over at his human friend and then up at Hot Rod.   “I support his curiosity about other worlds and know that there are environments out there unfavorable to our species—like Junkion, for instance.   Most of Cybertron, too………I think Vector Sigma _only_ placed an atmosphere in Iacon because it foresaw the fact of humans going there eventually.”

            Ultra Magnus gave a little chuckle.   “I never thought about it like that, but you _might_ be right, Spike.   I’d never even stopped to wonder why there was an organically favorable environment in Iacon, but Vector Sigma in tandem with the Matrix of Leadership has predicted a lot of future events,” the Autobots’ Second-in-Command responded with a warm smile at the human ally of the Autobots.

            “My one question is—why do you want to do an ecological survey of _Chaar_?”  The flame-colored mech asked, very curiously.   He couldn’t think of a logical reason that a human would willingly come to Chaar for scientific research of any sort!

            “I’d like to help _you_ out, Hot Rod,” Doctor Jones responded with a grin.   “Remember how I thanked you for saving us from the hate plague?   _You_ saved my family, we hadn’t been infected yet—and our house had just been broken into.   We were about to be infected by it and………if under the influence……..I hurt my wife and son—I’d have never forgiven myself.”

            Hot Rod’s mouth opened with a little “ _oh_ ”.

            “Ultra Magnus said you’re trying to help the Decepticons enjoy a home and a life that the Autobots now have the opportunity to live, with the ceasefire accords in place—so the Decepticons need to have something that makes them valuable to their neighbors,” the human scientist laughed.   “The Decepticons don’t care much for minerals and the like, so they could use it for trade value and one day set up a trade system with neighboring systems or the Galactic Alliance members, right?”

            “ _Exactly_.   That’s going to be a key point of establishing Chaar as the center of a _‘Decepticon Empire’_ —they must learn to be self-sufficient and that means learning to trade for the things they desire that they can’t get otherwise,” Hot Rod answered, nodding down at the human.   “Swindle does some trading at galactic bazaars with the junk he collects and acquires some nice things for his shop—which the Decepticons are really enamoured of.   They’ve _never_ had personal possessions like blankets and knickknacks.”

            Hot Rod was pleased—and somewhat excited—that _a human_ was willing to help him out with developing the home of the Decepticons some more.   It had been nearly impossible to get Autobots to help—and they were the _same species_ as the Decepticons—but a human, from a planet that the Decepticons liked to terrorize in the past, under Megatron………. ** _he_** was willing to help the Decepticons find their way to true self-sufficiency!

            “I’ll get Galvatron to come back to the table tomorrow, before you guys have to go—I’ll explain to him what this means,” Hot Rod answered, smiling down at Doctor Jones.   “Will you and your son be alright to stay here at the embassy overnight?   I know Spike and Daniel have been here before and we’ve got extra padding for the guest berths just for humans.”

            “Kicker will still throw a fit, but he’ll be fine.  I didn’t want to leave him with Miranda, since she’s got a baby to take care of right now and Kicker throwing a tantrum while I’m not there would just stress her out even more,” the human scientist laughed, warmly.

            “Oh Primus— _trust me_ , I know **_exactly_** what that’s like!   Your wife has my empathy!”   Hot Rod laughed.  “Nova was a little..…. _jealous_ ……of Storm after she was born and he’s a very good little mech.   Magnus can even tell you he rarely ever threw tantrums when he was little.   But I was going through something rough and lavished a lot of attention on her that I may not have normally and Nova thought I didn’t love him anymore.   He threw more tantrums in three months than in his first three years.”

            “Multiple children can be a joy and a curse, that’s for sure, but definitely more on the side of joy,” Doctor Jones said with a warm smile up at Hot Rod.

            “I only had _one_ and he was the biggest handful Carly and I ever had—I cannot imagine having more than one!”   Spike laughed, warmly.

            Suddenly Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime felt awkward on the directions the conversations were taking and just looked at each other, shrugging and enduring the talk about offspring for another hour.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Hot Rod made sure Stormbreaker would sleep through the night, but Daniel offered to stay in his room with Novablaze and the little femmeling to keep an eye on them.   The young human male knew that he could go and get Slipstream if he needed her assistance.   The flame-colored mech allowed his human little brother to take care of his children, because he knew Daniel was practicing for one day becoming a father of his own—and there was a part of Hot Rod that was very excited and he wanted to see Daniel Witwicky’s children and become friends with them, as he’d been a friend of Daniel’s forever.

            After getting everyone settled in at the embassy, he dropped in to see if Doctor Jones and Kicker were fine and the little boy had finally adjusted to being in the embassy and was bouncing happily on the massive berth that was given lots of extra padding for the humans.    Hot Rod gave over a couple of Novablaze’s old pillows, which were smaller and would be better for the humans to have than a regular Transformer-sized pillow.   Doctor Jones said they’d be good for tonight and wished Hot Rod a good night.   In a happy mood, Kicker also said good night to Hot Rod and said that his baby was super-cute for a baby robot—only halfway rude in its wording, but the flame-colored mech knew that Earth children had a tendency to speak their minds and not think about what they’re saying.

            _After all, he watched one of them grow up._

            Then Hot Rod told Carnivac he was going to go spend the night with Galvatron and try to get him calmed down to come back to the talks tomorrow.   The Decepticon chuckled and patted Hot Rod’s shoulder fondly and said he’d make sure the place stayed running properly—especially with guests in the building.   After everything got settled and situated, Hot Rod went to the palace and saw Cyclonus pacing out in the main foyer.

            “Are you okay, Cyclonus?”   The flame-colored mech asked softly.

            “ _Tch._    I am fine.   I merely am aggravated at the situation,” the loyal lieutenant said, stopping his pacing and looked down at the Autobot.

            “I didn’t hear the details, but………….how did the interrogation go?”  Hot Rod asked, looking up into Cyclonus’ faceplate.

            “There were none.   Onslaught said Lord Galvatron was _far too angry_ to interrogate her properly and asked him to leave and come back when he was calmer,” the purple-and-grey mech responded, deeply exventing with a sigh.   “While it is not my place to disagree with my Emperor, Onslaught was right.   As angry as Lord Galvatron was, we’d have a dead femme and no information at all.”

            Galvatron being angry, with _nothing to vent against_ meant………….Cyclonus had just been rage-fragged and was working off his own frustrations and new aches.

            “I’m sorry.   I wish I were here to help out, maybe the two of us could’ve calmed him down without you taking the brunt of things,” the flame-colored mech said, apologetically, hugging Cyclonus.   The Decepticons’ Second-in-Command merely grunted and patted Hot Rod’s head to assuage him and make him let go—he did not care much for hugging.

            “ _Be wary_.   Lord Galvatron has always been able to contain himself with you, but his anger may have more of a hold of him tonight—if you know are in true danger, _glyph me_ ,” Cyclonus said, his warning words very serious in tone.

            “Okay, I got it,” Hot Rod answered, watching Cyclonus walk away.   Cyclonus, who could’ve cared less about Hot Rod’s presence on Chaar whatsoever—offering to come and save him if Galvatron went too far……….. ** _that_** meant things were serious indeed.

            Hot Rod walked down towards Galvatron’s hab suite and then went through the beaded curtain into the bathing room.   Sure enough, the Decepticon Leader was soaking in his massive tub and the very visible froth in it meant he had the heat turned up extremely hot and had the jets going to circulate the water and minerals in the tub.   There was no way Hot Rod could get into that tub right now, it’d melt his derma and quite possibly parts of his armour.

            The flame-colored mech picked up several neatly folded towels and set them on a bench in the center of the room—above which there was a fan-vent used to help dry off a frame.   Still not saying anything to Galvatron, he walked over to the display racks with gels and polishes.   He looked for Galvatron’s favorite polish and saw that, thankfully, it looked like Cyclonus restocked it……..last time he was here, this particular polish container was nearly empty.   He grabbed the container and a couple of polishing and buffing cloths, setting them carefully on a stand near the drying bench.

            “Are you not speaking to me, Prime?”  Galvatron grunted, softly, but still easily able to be heard across the room and through the sound of the jets in the tub.

            Not “ _my Prime_ ”—which meant he was definitely in a mood.

            “I thought I’d wait until you wanted to talk to me, my Emperor,” the flame-colored Autobot responded in a gentle voice.   “When you’re ready to get out—let me dry you off and apply your favorite polish, okay, my lord?”

            “You won’t join me in here?”  The Decepticon Leader muttered, annoyance clear in his vocalizer.   “ _Have I offended you?_ ”

            “ _Uh, **no** ……of course not!_   But I can see how hot that it………..my frame may be hot, but I can’t possibly handle _that kind of heat_!”   Hot Rod laughed, warmly.   He walked over and sat near the edge, his hip near Galvatron’s shoulder.   The flame-colored mech placed his grey servos on one of the shoulder pillars and leaned on it, fondly.   “Sorry that you’ve had a bad day, my lord,” he murmured, softly, reaching a servo out and rubbed the back of Galvatron’s helm.

            “I am _tired_ of this dance with Starscream,” the Decepticon Leader grumbled, his voice deep and dark with his frustration.

            “Autobots and Decepticons were at war with one another for millions of years, my lord—this conflict with Starscream will likely _not end quickly_ ,” Hot Rod murmured, bringing his servo back to the pillared shoulder and leaned his chin down on his folded servos.

            Galvatron incycled and exvented deeply.   He raised one arm from the bath and reached a servo up to stroke Hot Rod’s red helm.   The flame-colored mech could feel how hot it was, from soaking in the water all this time.

            “You are right, my little Prime.   Patience is _not_ one of my better qualities,” the Decepticon Leader answered with a light little chuckle.

            “Your other qualities more than make up for it, my dear Emperor,” the young Autobot chuckled, his voice full of teasing and longing.   “ _Come on_.   You’ve been in here for a while—let’s get you dried off and polished up.”

            After Hot Rod pulled away and stood up, Galvatron rose from the bath, his violet-and-grey frame steaming with the heat from the water.   He picked up the remote on a stand near the tub and turned off the jets and heat to let the water cool down and drain into the recycle tanks.  Then he used the remote to turn on the drying fans above the bench.

            “Plant your servos on the bench and raise your aft, my Prime—I want your valve and I want it _right now_ ,” Galvatron demanded.

            **_No foreplay_**.   That was also _very unlike Galvatron_.   But Hot Rod did as commanded…….he bent over, planting his servos firmly on the bench, spread his legs and raised his aft as he opened his valve panel instantly.  The mesh lips glistened with lubricant, already.   It was probably a good thing he was usually ready to go whenever he was around Galvatron in certain specific places………or else this might have hurt him if the Decepticon Leader thrust into him dry, with no preparation whatsoever.

            One of Galvatron’s large servos planted on his left hip, while the other grabbed the centerpoint of the top edge of Hot Rod’s sunbright yellow spoiler.   The thick black spike thrust into the flame-colored mech’s valve so very hard and he nearly stumbled forwards, losing his footing.   It was a good thing Galvatron was holding onto him tightly with his grips.   It didn’t take Hot Rod long to reach his overload and the spiraling, clenching valve around Galvatron’s spike took him right into overload as well.

            After taking a few moments to recover, panting softly.  Hot Rod stood up and turned to Galvatron, who had already picked up a towel and began to dry himself off.   The flame-colored mech picked up another towel and began drying off the lower part of his powerful lover’s frame.   He noticed that Galvatron’s spike was still partially pressurized—so his lover was not done with him yet tonight, he still wanted to frag some more.

            Neither of them spoke as they both took some polishing cloths and put some of the polish onto them.  Hot Rod walked around to Galvatron’s back and began polishing his back and helm carefully, while Galvatron rubbed polish on his chest and down to his hips on his front side.   They both used the buffling cloths afterwards and then Galvatron sat down on the bench so Hot Rod could polish and buff his legs and boots.

            The flame-colored mech felt awkward being so silent, because he was always talkative around the Decepticon Leader, even if Galvatron himself stayed pretty quiet.   But he didn’t want to say anything at all and risk pissing Galvatron off, so he quietly knelt on the floor and began polishing his lover’s legs and boots.   Then, as he was buffing them, he felt Galvatron’s heavy servo land on his helm.

            Hot Rod looked up into his lover’s faceplate, trying to ignore the very large and fully pressurized spike pretty much at his optic level.

            “ _Spike. **Now**_ ,” he grunted, his firm voice an undeniable command.

            Okay, so he _wasn’t_ supposed to ignore it.  Hot Rod set the buffing cloth on the bench by Galvatron’s hip and then gently placed one servo, spread, to the side of the black spike.   With his other servo, the flame-colored mech gently rubbed a thumb along the pulsing crimson biolights on the underside and tips of his other fingers settling into ridges on the top of the spike.   Hot Rod flicked his glossa teasingly on the thick spike’s ridges and grooves, stroking it luxuriantly across the tip leaking with pre-transfluid.

            Still not really speaking, Galvatron gave an appreciative grunt and shuttered his optics to focus only on his precious Prime sucking him off.   He laid a servo gently on the top of Hot Rod’s helm and treasured the feel of the familiar glossa stroking his length, oral lubricants leaking into the grooves and ridges of his spike.   The Leader of the Decepticons just let go of the stupid events of the day and let his treasured Hot Rod take care of him for the rest of the night.


	2. Spies, Lies and Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how much he grows and evolves over the years spent with Hot Rod guiding him--Galvatron will always be Galvatron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes on language:  
> *In a visual format (animation, live-action, comic books) it is far easier to display people speaking in another language constantly. In a story like this--sure, you could make up your language, have the Romanized text in there, but you'd still need a heck of a lot of footnotes to translate.  
> *So these stories are written in English and I've used the "he said/she said" portions of the spoken-dialogue sentences to denote changes in languages. Since in the interview portion at least three different languages are spoken. You, as the readers, just have to pretend they're speaking in different languages. :)

_ Chapter Two:   Spies, Lies and Allies _

__

            “Cari………..why are we here?”  Novablaze asked, peering at the monitor in the table next to him.   This place was really super-big with lots and lots of lights everywhere.

            “Every so often I like being on this intergalactic television program, I’m trying to educate the universe on just who the Transformers are and get them used to Autobots and Decepticons out in the universe,” Hot Rod responded, smiling down at his curious youngling.

            Stormbreaker was in his arms and she was staring out onto the stage from the prep room, a servo planted in her mouth, while the other held tight to an ear of her worn plush kitty.   Hot Rod was glad to bring his younglings with him _this time_ , he knew the universe had a great curiosity about them.   And the last time he was on the program with Galvatron, it was a really good thing he’d made the excuse that it wouldn’t be good for the children under the lights and in the spotlight.

            _Galvatron had raged at Starscream on intergalactic television._    It had been embarrassing and appalling.   And it was, in no way, helping to shine a positive light on their species.

            And right now, Hot Rod seriously wanted to get their children off of Chaar while Galvatron raged at what they were and were _probably not_ going to get out of an interrogation of Flamewar.   It wasn’t as if Novablaze hadn’t seen his sire’s anger, but…………Hot Rod really preferred to keep Galvatron’s true form of fury from their children for at least a little while longer.

            “Are you sure you don’t want me to watch over them, Hot Rod?”  Slipstream asked, curiously, reaching over and patting Stormbreaker’s helm.

            “It’s fine.   I know everyone in the universe has been curious about mine and Galvatron’s kids, plus Gaourl and Julea have promised to shorten the talk times with more commercial breaks, that way if we need to give the little brats some rest, we can,” the young, flame-colored mech chuckled.   “Now, Nova………I’d like you to be at your _most polite_.   Be like **_Ultra Magnus_** , okay?”  Hot Rod said, fondly, bumping his hip lightly against his purple-colored youngling’s shoulder, since his servos were busy holding onto a femmeling.  “Storm gets a pass because she can’t speak well yet, but _you_ need to think about your words, got it?”

            “ _Mmm-hmm_.   Cyclonus told me that being polite is _awesome_ ,” Novablaze answered with a big grin up at Hot Rod.

            Hot Rod was pretty sure Cyclonus did not exactly use the word “ _awesome_ ”.   The flame-colored mech was absolutely certain _that_ particular word wasn’t even in the stern Decepticon Second’s personal dictionary.   But hearing his offspring say that Cyclonus said it brought amusement to the former Autobot Leader.

            A warbling drew Hot Rod’s attention down to the three Mini-Cons standing around Slipstream’s slender legs.   Scattor warbled some more and made some hand motions, then tilted his head curiously up at the flame-colored mech.

            “I need you three to stay back stage with Slipstream,” Hot Rod said, not quite knowing what Scattor was saying to him, but figured the Mini-Cons wanted to go out into the interview with him.   “Trust me, _we’re fine here_ —there’s plenty of security here and Sixshot’s somewhere about as well.”

            Wreckage warbled some more and then made a puzzled look, cupping his chin thoughtfully.

            “Just keep an eye out for anyone moving around back here that you feel might look suspicious, then call Sixshot if you need to, okay?”   Hot Rod said, very firmly.

            Skyboom gave a warbling sigh and shrugged, then looked up at Hot Rod and nodded firmly.

            “ _Good_ ,” the flame-colored mech chuckled and then saw the cue on the prompt sign above the doorway.  “We’re going out in a few seconds, are you ready, Nova?”

            “I’m ready, cari!”   Novablaze said, excitedly, stepping up in front of his carrier.   He watched the sign very carefully and as soon as it flashed green, he tried hard to hold back his excitement and walked carefully next to Hot Rod out onto the stage.

            “We’d like to welcome back to _‘Meet the Universe’_ our favorite Autobot—and this time he’s brought the children that he and Galvatron have had together!”  Gaourl said, cheerfully, motioning with two of his four arms over to where Hot Rod and Novablaze were walking onto the stage area.   “ _Welcome Hot Rod_ —and also welcome his children, _Novablaze and Stormbreaker_!”

            Novablaze was utterly enraptured by the live audience and the sudden cheering and applause from them.   Hot Rod’s hip bumped his shoulder when they got over to the seating area, which reminded him to sit down and be ready to talk and answer questions.   The young purple-colored mech climbed up onto the couch and sat down quietly, while his carrier sat down next to him and easily settled Stormbreaker into a sitting position on his lap.

            “It’s always a pleasure to be on the show, Julea and Gaourl,” Hot Rod said with a warm and open smile.   “Nova, can you say _‘hi’_ to everyone?”  He asked, gazing down at his youngling.

            Novablaze waved at the audience and said “ _hello_ ” in both Cybertronian and then in galactic standard.   As soon as she saw Novablaze greet the audience, Stormbreaker understood they were greeting people and held out her kitty towards the two hosts.

            “ ** _Kdy_** ,” Stormbreaker said, firmly, her arms wobbling a little as she held the plush towards the hosts.

            Julea gave a little squeal of delight and brought her hands together and a bright pink suffused her pale white cheeks.  Gaourl chuckled and reached one of his four arms out to pat the little plush kitty.

            “My kids do stuff like this all the time,” the green-skinned host chuckled, blinking his yellow eyes politely at the three Transformers.   “Has she been speaking a lot yet or is it just a few words?”   He asked, curiously, as he watched his co-host happily reach out to stroke the plush kitty, then she squealed again when the little femmeling hugged the grey plush cat back to her chestplating.

            “She’s slowly learning more and more all the time.   The more she says certain words, the better she gets at them,” Hot Rod answered, smiling at them.   “She knows more Cybertronian than any other language yet, since we speak our native language most at home on Chaar.   But _‘kdy’_ is based on Earthen English, it means _‘kitty’_ , we Cybertronians don’t have a word for that, so the galactic standard is _‘feline’_.”

            “Novablaze, I heard from Hot Rod that you can speak a lot of languages,” Julea said, looking at the purple-colored youngling and smiled at him.   “How many can you speak?”

            “ _Ummm_ ………galactic standard and Cybertronian, of course.   I don’t know many other galactic languages……….” Novablaze trailed off, making sure he spoke in galactic standard for the program.   “Cari and I lived on Earth for awhile a long time ago and I learned about……….. _ummmm_ ……….ten Earth languages?”

            “That’s _really impressive_!”  Julea responded with a smile.   “How do you prefer to be addressed?   By your full designation or a shorter version?”

            “ _Novablaze_ is okay.   If we’re friends, I don’t mind being called _‘Nova’_ ,” the youngling said with a grin.   “ _We can be friends!_ ”

            “Then I’ll call you _‘Nova’_ from now on,” the white-skinned alien female responded, nodding.   “So, how is life on Chaar for you?   Since you lived on both Earth and Cybertron for a short time as well?”

            “It was kinda weird at first.   It was like Cybertron—kinda quiet and the air was still and stuff.   But Chaar’s rocky and not metal.   It’s really different from Earth though—Earth is kinda heavy and there’s lots of green and lots of water,” Novablaze responded, stopping to think of how to describe it.   “But sire’s been teaching me things and Cyclonus has been teaching me things and the Decepticons are all different and cool to talk to!”

            “Earth has an oxygen-rich atmosphere and a heavy gravity,” Hot Rod added, looking over at the hosts to explain in a slightly more adult manner what the youngling was trying to describe.   “Both Chaar and Cybertron have a low gravity and there are barely any elements in their atmospheres, therefore we also don’t experience weather changes and things like that.   Chaar is also very stable, so there’s no tectonic plate shifting and no earthquakes.”

            “So, we’ve heard that you can change into your alt mode now—how does that make you feel?”  Gaourl asked, looking over at Novablaze.

            “It’s pretty cool, _I can fly_ —it’s **_awesome_**!”  Novablaze gushed.   “Stormy will probably fly too—her wings are more developed than mine were.”

            “That’s what the medics and I think, as well,” Hot Rod added to his son’s statement.   “Her growth rate has been different than Nova’s and there could be many reasons for it.   Offspring such as this are completely unheard of before, so everything about the two of them have been a big learning process for the medics of both the Decepticons and the Autobots.”

            “Having a large brood of children myself including _both_ males and females—it seems to be a developmental leaning of the genders growing at different rates,” Gaourl responded, waving two of his four arms in a thinking gesture.   “Environment, procreation process………….many factors go into the evolution of an offspring.   In some primitive cultures females develop faster because of the need for procreation, but in some higher cultures males develop faster for education purposes.”

            “I won’t ask for details with two such adorable children on the show, but how did you decide to do this with _Galvatron_ —did you even know you could?”  Julea asked, curiously, gazing at Hot Rod with a warm smile.

            “It was an accident…………..a completely odd twist of fate.   Galvatron had another frame once and when it was dying, Unicron reformatted his frame into Galvatron,” Hot Rod began, trying to make the concept as simple as possible for everyone.   “Unicron itself is legendary, so I don’t need to explain the planet-eater, but he was familiar with life-creation technology—as that may be.   _Why_ he inserted such programming into Galvatron may go far, far back to our species’ origins as slaves developed by the Quintessons, but we cannot ask him, so we don’t know for sure.   Just that Galvatron was given the forge protocols in his systems—protocols that our species no longer has within them.   As for me, that’s a curiosity as well—speculation is that our heritage object may have reformatted the internals of my frame, as well as the externals that all could physically see.”

            “Your larger and bulkier body, plus your larger alt mode,” Gaourl said, nodding at the flame-colored mech.

            “ _Right_.   The heritage object has been around since back to our origins as a slave product, it would be aware of the forge and carry protocols—plus, it had also been stolen briefly by Galvatron once,” Hot Rod answered.   “The theories that the medics and I have is that it could sense the forge protocols installed into Galvatron and thought that perhaps by installing the carry protocols into me—perhaps something akin to a _‘marriage of alliance’_ might come about.   It would’ve been nice to know **_that_** before Galvatron sparked me up, but I certainly haven’t regretted it either time,” he added, reaching over to rub Novablaze’s helm and patted Stormbreaker’s helm fondly.

            “Given what the universe knows of the mercenary ways of the Quintessons, it’s probably easy to speculate they expected your ancestors to reproduce to save them labor costs on building new mechs—or femmes,” Gaourl said, very seriously.

            “True, but when they couldn’t make it function properly—meaning they didn’t have _‘Spark-bonding’_ to ignite a newspark—they abandoned the concept and their programming computer, which we know as the Master Programmer, _Vector Sigma_ , chose to adapt our frames to the coming future and that didn’t include creating offspring,” the flame-colored mech responded.   “ _Why should it?_    As long as Vector Sigma created newmechs and newfemmes—there really was no point to leave the forge and carry protocols installed in us.”

            “Your species is very different from other robotic lifeforms in the universe, that we know of,” Julea said, igniting a new line of the topic.   “We will return to this in a few moments, after a brief commercial break!”   She said, looking towards the recorder devices.

            The lights dimmed a little on the stage and Stormbreaker looked around making a little “ _oooooooh_ ” sound.

            “You kids are holding up pretty well.   What do you think of being on intergalactic television, Nova?”  Julea asked, smiling at the purple-colored youngling.

            “It’s fun.   A little boring when cari has to do all the _big talking_ , but I have to learn to listen to the big talking, too,” Novablaze responded.  “ _Cyclonus says so_.   I’ll be a better leader if I do.”

            Hot Rod grinned and rubbed his youngling’s helm fondly.   Then he saw Stormbreaker crane her head up to look at him.   “Cawah…...cawah, fuul?”   She asked, her mangled little bit of Cybertronian making her illegible to the two alien hosts of “ _Meet the Universe_ ”, but Hot Rod knew what she wanted right away—he understood her “ _sparkling words_ ”, as Galvatron called them.  He reached down into the tote he’d had around his arm and set at the feet of the couch, bringing out the cute pink fuel cup and handed it to the little femmeling.

            “Stormy’s doing lots better at drinking from a fuel cup now, she’s getting _so smart_!”   Novablaze said, fondly, watching his little sister drink from her fuel cup as Hot Rod held on to the plush kitty.

            “You seem to have made a good parent, Hot Rod—what about Galvatron?”  Julea asked, chuckling softly. 

            “Galvatron is a parent in his own _Galvatron-ish_ way,” Hot Rod chuckled warmly.   “It may not be the way the universe parents, but he’ll fight as fiercely as a war machine ever could to protect them.   I think Galvatron as a topic is better when we’re on the show to talk politics.”

            “We’ll have to have you back soon enough for that,” Gaourl responded with a grin.   “I know the universe respects your openness on your species—it’s something we don’t get from anyone else we talk to.   I think Ultra Magnus is just plain awkward in talking to us…………”

            “Magnus has come a really long way—after all, he had to put up with **_me_** as his leader for a while,” the flame-colored mech laughed, which made Stormbreaker crane her head up at him curiously.   “I think he gets mixed messages from me and Optimus, so he doesn’t know what he should be talking about in our PR messages to the universe.   I think we should be more open with the universe if we want to be part of it, Optimus still wants to hide our culture………..but that may be the slave-coding mentality.   No matter how long passes, we still have our coding—the ones calling themselves Autobots with their consumer goods programming, to serve and please people and not interfere with their lives………….and the ones who claim to be Decepticons, with their military hardware coding, they need to have the action and combat to fulfill their purposes.”

            “Time and patience will win in the end,” Julea responded, smiling at Hot Rod fondly.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Galvatron wanted to rage and scream and hurt Flamewar, but Onslaught was still saying that his Emperor was unwelcome to interrogate the prisoner in this sort of mood—so, Galvatron allowed Cyclonus to interrogate the Destron femme in his place.   He **_knew_** it was _the right decision_ , but he just wanted to destroy everything to get at Starscream………it made the Decepticon Leader hurt and ache in ways that he hadn’t felt since Unicron was his “ _master_ ”.

            So, with Scourge and a few random Decepticons in tow……….Galvatron left Chaar and went to the other five planets of the twelve planet system that he had assuredly already conquered and left his marks on their surface—to check upon their safety and security.   He sincerely hoped that the Trylians would definitely try to do some invading today, because he needed targets for his rage and he needed them now.

            “Let us go and conquer the seventh planet today!”  Galvatron roared at his small band of Decepticons.

            The Decepticons roared back at him eagerly, ready for some kind of combat today.   Besides Scourge and a couple of Sweeps, Galvatron had the Seacons with him today, as well as a few of the Decepticons who had come in from the frontier, such as Apeface, Skullcruncher and Weirdwolf—all powerful warriors from the old days, who had seen plenty of combat, relished some relaxation and were all eager for combat again.

            “ _Lord Galvatron_ ,” Scourge said, his voice low and submissive, so as not to aggravate his leader.   “Scans are reading some structures down there—just a couple, clustered in a climate-protected area.   That…………..should not be right.   Our previous scans showed nothing on this planet but metho-hydrogen liquid oceans and rocky, craggy cliff-faces.”

            “ _Trylians?_    Do they correspond to the Trylian technology and structure-style?”   Galvatron asked of his powerful-but-cowardly hunter, his curiosity, as well as his frustration, building.   He sincerely _hoped_ they were Trylian………….

            “No, my lord………..they appear to be _Cybertronian_ ,” Scourge murmured.

            **_Because of course they were!!!_**    Cyclonus had warned him there was likely a spy base in the planetary system— _this_ must be where it was.   Galvatron roared with rage and began charging up his nova cannon to just destroy the whole planet instead, when suddenly they were fired upon by several warships—and the Emperor of the Decepticons finally had a _true target_ to unleash his rage upon.   _The Trylians would regret messing with him this day._

            Galvatron swung about, howling at his troops to move their afts, and loosed his shot.   It tore straight through the smallest of the three warships.   Then he loosed several smaller scattershots at the damaged area, even as he saw the cyborgs’ nanotechnology start repairing the damage.   A sheen rippled over the hulls of all three ships meaning they upped the level of their shields.   Galvatron didn’t care, he boosted the power of his thrusters and shot himself straight at the largest of the three warships.  Even as he did so, he fired a volley of a dozen piercer shots from his nova cannon in a single spot to break the shields and he propelled himself against the hull of the massive warship with his claws bared and ripped right through the hull.

            **_That_** was something he’d _never_ done before.   Before, the Trylians were merely annoyances and playthings—Galvatron _let them live_ , because they’d come back and give him more targets to attack.   Even though he threatened to kill them all constantly—his war-programming and his precious Prime’s warnings held him back and let his enemies to live and give him more to fight later on.   _Today he did not care._    And as he tore into the bridge area of the warship, the Trylians knew Galvatron was not to be messed with— ** _not today_**.

            The Decepticon Leader grabbed one of the Trylians by the neck and hauled him off the floor, his optics scanning around to take in the number of the remainder of the crew who had all their weapons aimed upon him.

            “Tell me half-fleshling—do you ever take orders from a mech named _Starscream_?”  Galvatron hissed in fury, his optics focusing back on the single-eyed cyborg in his grip.

            “I would know _nothing of that_ , I merely follow my Emperor’s orders—and he has ordered us to claim this planetary system,” the well-muscled male cyborg responded, his voice clearly firm and that of a warrior.

            Galvatron dropped the cyborged-cyclops.   He respected the tone in the male’s voice, for he heard it was clearly a tone of a _loyal soldier_ —it was exactly what he would have expected of his own Decepticons.   And if these Trylians had an Emperor who had their loyalty, then **_that_** was something he could also respect as an Emperor himself.

            “So you want **_my_** planetary system?   Tell your Emperor he will have to try _much harder_ than this,” Galvatron chuckled.   “ _Oh_ , and by the way………….I hope your other vessels have tow-lines,” he laughed as he charged up his nova-cannon and aimed it at the floor.

            With his free servo, the Decepticon Leader made a motion along the floor, from the stern to the aft and flashed a fanged, sadistic grin at the cyborgs, who stared at him in bewilderment.   All of the sudden, one of them realized _exactly_ what his motion was for as Galvatron unleashed a rapid-fire volley of shots into the floor, along the path his pointing servo just took.   Metal squealed and sparks struck everywhere as system wiring was fried and the nanotechnology of the ship began swiftly trying to repair the damage.

            “I do not understand technology, this is true………….however, I do understand a general structure of ships—and they _do not_ function very well without engines, do they?”  The Emperor of the Decepticons roared with laughter as he spun on a pede and launched himself towards the aft of the ship.   As he flew swiftly through corridors, his sensors found the engine block area of the warship and he charged up his nova cannon for another series of powerful, rapid-fire bursts in a circular pattern around the corridor—then he blasted through with his free servo forwards and shoved the whole aft engine block area of the ship away.

            This left the ship _stranded_ —and while its nanotechnology would seal the hull damage, it couldn’t even begin to build a brand-new engine for the ship.

            Galvatron flew off with the massive piece of metal in his one clawed servo and watched the two smaller warships fly in to attach towlines to their fellow warship.   Then the Trylians retreated most definitively.

            “Did everyone get in some good exercise today?”  Galvatron chuckled, looking at Snaptrap, the commander of the Seacons, with a big grin.

            “I believe so, Emperor,” Snaptrap laughed warmly.   “A prize?”   He asked, pointing at the mass of metal in the Decepticon Leader’s clawed servo.

            “We do not need such things as **_this_** ,” the Emperor of the Decepticons chortled.   “Who knows what their nanotechnology may do to us?   My Decepticons—let us celebrate our victory with some _fireworks_ , shall we?”   He called out to his soldiers, flinging the giant piece of metal out in front of him.

            All of the Decepticons with Galvatron began to charge up their weapons and when their leader gave the command to fire, they all did.   The torn-away engine block of the Trylian warship exploded with colorful showers of sparks and fire.   The Decepticons all cheered and roared with victory.

            After all that was dealt with, they examined the base on the seventh planet and then went back to Chaar.

            “Have you gotten any information from her, Cyclonus?”  Galvatron demanded as soon as he came into his throne room.

            “Not as yet, my lord,” the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command said with a sigh and a very deep bow of apology.

            “ _Nnnngh_.   I trust you will be able to get something soon enough,” the Emperor of the Decepticons muttered, darkly, plopping down into his throne.   “I have found your spy-base.   It is on the seventh world.   After we dealt with the Trylians, we went down to examine it.   Scourge will have all the details of what we have found, but it is truly abandoned now—and likely was as soon as we took that treacherous femme into custody.”

            “If Starscream left his minions there, he would be aware they may be in danger, so it is only logical he would command them to retreat,” Cyclonus responded, nodding firmly.   “I will speak with Scourge to acquire the information he assessed.   Did you leave the base intact?”   He inquired, curiously.

            “Only for _your_ benefit, my dear Cyclonus,” Galvatron chuckled, motioning aimlessly with a servo.   “I know you always wish to assess things yourself, as well.   Has my Prime returned with our spawn yet?”   He inquired.

            “They are expected to return within the hour, my lord,” the purple-and-grey lieutenant responded with another humble bow.   “However, I did record the broadcast if you should like to watch it before they return.”

            “Yes, let us view the broadcast,” the Decepticon Leader chuckled.

            Cyclonus picked up the remote and the screen came down from the ceiling a distance before the throne.   Galvatron watched with interest and some amusement as Novablaze answered questions very respectfully and very well-mannered.   Stormbreaker was fairly quiet while everyone was talking, which surprised Galvatron—as she usually enjoyed her babbling all day long.   Perhaps his femmeling sensed the importance of the interview and was acting respectfully for it.   She said a few sparkling words, but not many, she mostly played with her kitty while sitting in Hot Rod’s lap for the interview.

            Before he’d been on the program with Hot Rod, he did not pay much attention to it in the past.   Frankly, he could care less about what fleshlings did with their free time.   Now, however, as he watched the program—he saw Hot Rod’s true charisma shine through.    He was polite, but laughed and was quite charming with the hosts.   He was open, but thoughtful, of his words and speaking of the Transformers race on intergalactic television.   Galvatron had watched one of the broadcasts with Optimus Prime on it before, **_only_** for amusement purposes, and saw that his little Prime had far more skill at dealing with people in mass than the current Autobot Leader had.   The grey-and-purple mech chuckled when Hot Rod spoke about their relationship and how the sparklings came about—without the lurid and juicy details that the audience would probably truly love to hear.   His little Prime really was very good at this.

            Galvatron was finally in a much better mood.   He’d gotten some combat in today, while Cyclonus promised to get him answers soon enough.   His Prime was promoting their species’ involvement in the universe at large with skill and charisma—it showed Hot Rod’s true fire was shining through.   How could Galvatron not find himself in a better mood?

            “I am heading over to the embassy,” Galvatron said, rising from his throne as soon as the broadcast recording had finished.   Cyclonus merely gave a polite nod, bowed and watched his lord and lover go with a ghost of a smile.

            By the time Galvatron had flown over to the embassy, Hot Rod…………along with his bodyguard of Sixshot, his secretary of Slipstream, plus the two younglings and the three Mini-Cons………..had arrived back on Chaar and all the embassy staff were sitting around the lobby’s main lounge area talking.   Novablaze was running around the large lobby area with the three Mini-Cons playing some kind of game that involved running and hitting each other lightly.

            Stormbreaker was immediately standing on Hot Rod’s lap crying out:  “ ** _Sawah!   Sawah!_** ” very loudly, while making grabby hands towards the general direction where Galvatron had walked in—Hot Rod had a very careful hold on her so she didn’t fall.   “ ** _Sawah!   HUG!_** ”   The little femmeling demanded, her grabby hands reaching up to Galvatron as the Decepticon Leader walked over and stood in front of Hot Rod.

            “ _Hug_ ” was probably the only word that she could say properly, as it should be pronounced.   Though often it might be dragged out into “ _huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggg_ ”, depending on how desperately she wanted her sire’s attention.

            “Clearly she wants _your_ attention, now,” Hot Rod laughed, holding her up just as Galvatron reached down and plucked her up by the back of her neck.

            The red-colored femmeling burrowed her way into Galvatron’s side, purring and babbling happily, as the Decepticon Leader settled her down in the crook of his right arm.

            “ _Clearly_ ,” the purple-and-grey mech responded.   “Cyclonus recorded your interview for me and I have just watched it.   You are _very good_ at these things, my little Prime,” he added, gazing down at Hot Rod, who leaned leisurely back into the couch, now that he no longer had a squirming femmeling in his lap.

            “Thanks, Galvatron!   I thought Nova did a pretty good job, too………..and Storm was surprisingly pretty quiet,” the flame-colored mech answered, smiling up at his powerful lover.

            “I could see that,” Galvatron chuckled.

            “ _You’re_ in a better mood, I’m glad to see that, my Emperor,” Hot Rod said, scooting over and offering the Decepticon Leader a seat beside him on the large couch.

            “Yes, well.   Time helps.   The Trylians managed to occupy part of my morning,” Galvatron responded, leaning back and squeezing his left arm behind Hot Rod’s back and resting it on the flame-colored mech’s hip, gently.    “We found the spy-base—on the seventh world of the system.”

            Stormbreaker’s purring began to subside as she relaxed against Galvatron and slipped into a nap-cycle.   Hot Rod pulled out the little plush pink blanket and reached over to wrap it around most of the femmeling’s frame and tucking it in around the parts of Galvatron’s arm.

            “ _Abandoned_ , I’m assuming,” Sixshot said, his voice with a slight inquiring tone.   He was sitting on another of the couches with Slipstream close on his right side, while Brainstorm and Carnivac were lazing about on an area to his left side.

            Twinferno was lying on the floor with Pounce and Wingspan curled all about him.   All of the regular embassy staff were there.

            “ _Even so_ ,” Galvatron sighed.   “All I want from that damned femme is where Starscream’s base is—then I can end this once and for all!”   The grey-and-purple mech grumbled softly.

            “ _Unlikely_ ,” Twinferno said, sitting up.   He didn’t flinch when Galvatron glared at him, which the Decepticon Leader actually respected.   “From all the data that’s been gathered, Starscream and his Quintesson benefactor have a _mobile base_ that has an alt mode and primary mode as well.   Even if you can find where the mobile base is located now and prepare an attack—are you ready to face a city-sized Transformer……..something far larger than a mere gestalt?”   The former Autobot spy focused, even as the twins cuddled against his back and his lap.   “Look, Lord Galvatron, I am **_not_** doubting your courage or your power, but we’re speaking of combat differences and possibly even numbers.   Are you even now aware of how much these Destrons have grown in number?”

            “I encountered a combat situation on Cyberytron, Starscream’s forces have a decent number,” Galvatron answered, immediately focusing once he realized the Autobot was looking at this from a tactical standpoint.

            “And _that_ was several weeks back,” Twinferno responded, folding his arms across his chest.   “Captain Deszaras has informed you that things have changed out on the frontier…………soldiers are hiding from fear of Starscream or joining him, because they are afraid of him—as well as the number that Starscream has killed for not joining him.”

            “His numbers have increased,” Sixshot added, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knee-joints.   “Plus we don’t know how many newmechs were created by Raj-ur-Malekk, as part of their forces.”

            “As Sixshot says—we _aren’t_ fully aware of his numbers anymore,” Twinferno added.   “Starscream sent spies here to gather all that kind of information that _you_ should try to gather before you go after him.   Because of Flamewar and her contact on this spy-base you found, plus the Cassetticon—she’s gathered _plenty of information on Chaar_.   The security of the habitation area, the palace, the embassy and even the new entertainment district…………..the inhabitants and the layouts on the planet, as well.   Starscream now has _all of this tactical information_ and what do **_we_** have?”

            “He’s got a gestalt, a city-bot and an unknown number of Decepticons—and maybe even renegade Autobots—who have joined him,” Slipstream said, inserting herself into the conversation.   “As well as a spy that we have in custody right now.   None of this gives us any numbers just a vague _‘many’_.   Even if Cyclonus can get a location from her, as was pointed out……the base is _mobile_ and may not be at the location you are given—this can open a force up to a sneak attack by the Destrons.”

            “Plus, consider this, my lord—if Flamewar gives you a location and you take forces out to attack him……….he may try a rush maneuver to get past you and come to Chaar to attack with a greater force while you’re away,” Hot Rod added, reaching up a servo to pat Galvatron’s helm.

            “ _Rrrrgh_ , your points are all taken,” Galvatron muttered, darkly.    “Sitting around patiently and thinking of all the angles of war and combat are not things that are within my realm of programming.”

            “Well, you have _other_ winning qualities, my Emperor,” Hot Rod chuckled, snuggling closer and enjoying the presence of the mech he loved.

            Everyone else grinned or chuckled warmly.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Out on the frontier—as the outer edges of the Galactic Alliance’s system were called—things were running down to a stalemate of sorts.   While Deszaras was certain there were others out there he didn’t have data for, he was running out of areas to look for the old forces they _did_ have the data for.   He’d greatly appreciated Hot Rod getting forces and numbers for Autobots to give to him………and they’d managed to save a good number of Autobots, as well as many Decepticons—running into Starscream’s forces several more times.

            The Destron gestalt had been a problem.   It simply wasn’t registering injury data as a true Transformer should.   Deszaras had watched the gestalt collapse on previous occasions, but still try to keep fighting—the pain simply wasn’t registering to it.   _Until now………._

            “What’s the deal here?   The thing acted like a no-pain-receptor-zombie in our past encounters and now it’s holding back, _whimpering_!”  Deadlock snapped.

            Liokaiser was indeed in pain—a massive shared wave of pain that went through all six mechs that comprised it.   Deep within, at the core of the consciousness, Leozak wondered if they really should’ve let Raj-ur-Malekk install the revamped sensor nets within all of them.    They all seemed better off **_not_** being like natural born Cybertronians if a mere hack-and-slash to the limbs made them all withdraw in pain.    Leozak felt them _all_ ……….hurting, crying……….deep within the shared consciousness of Liokaiser.

            _Then it was up to **him**_.

            Leozak cleared the shared consciousness and forced all the others back into the depths of Liokaiser—he took command of their combined frame himself.   After all………. ** _he_** knew pain.   Starscream and Raj-ur-Malekk practically visited it to him on a _regular basis_.   And after forcing his companions down into the depths of their shared consciousness, he took charge of the entire combined frame.

            “Ah, _this_ is better,” Liokaiser chuckled.   “Little sword-wielder………I do believe you cut up my legs pretty well, _allow me to respond in kind_!”   The gestalt roared, whipping out its massive sword and rushing forwards towards Deadlock.

            Deszaras and Star Saber were instantly there, catching the huge blade on the edges of their two greatswords.

            “Don’t argue, Deadlock—get everyone onto the _Thunder Arrow_ , **_NOW_**!”  Deszaras snarled sharply.   He could tell the gestalt was still in pain, but this time he was using his pain to make his attacks fiercer.   "Saber—I think one of the six just took over the gestalt all by himself…….and _that_ means we’re no longer fighting a collective consciousness.”

            “Is that even possible, Des—can one mind rule all the others in a gestalt?”  Star Saber asked, planting his pedes firmly as he tried to push back against Liokaiser’s massive blade.

            “We don’t know what Starscream’s created forces are truly capable of—this _isn’t_ a naturally formed gestalt, it was planned to become one from the very beginning,” the powerful Decepticon general grunted in response, also trying hard to push back against the blade.    “Just as soon as everyone is aboard the _Thunder Arrow_ — ** _we_** retreat as well.   We managed to rescue some of the Autobots and Decepticons left behind on this world, if we can—we’ll try to sweep back for the rest later!”   He muttered.

            “I _hate_ that we can’t save them all—that we’ve failed fellow Autobots and Decepticons who are waiting for us to save them,” Star Saber growled, very angry at the way things have gone out on the frontier.

            “Blame the war, Saber—the long, _long_ war which brought our kind to situations like this,” Deszaras sighed.    As soon as he saw that Deadlock had gathered everyone and got them aboard the _Thunder Arrow_ , he nodded at Star Saber.

            The two powerful, older mechs broke away from the fight with Liokaiser and transformed into their alt modes to fly at their top speeds back to the old warship.   They flew aboard in their alt modes and only transformed back into their primary modes when they slid onto the landing bay floor, just as the ship took off.   That meant Deadlock had gone to the bridge, only **_he_** had the skills to pilot the _Thunder Arrow_ , in the absence of Deszaras or Star Saber—and he probably grabbed someone to be a co-pilot.

            **[Can you handle the piloting for a while?   Saber’s very upset,]** Deszaras comm-link sent to Deadlock.

            **[Of course,]** the serious swordsmech responded.  **[You two have barely spent any time together since we took on these tasks—it’s about time you go and fragged yourselves silly.]**

            **[We’ll be in my room, if you need us,]** the old Decepticon general responded with a fond tone in his comm-link’s voice.

            Star Saber hadn’t put his V-Armour back on yet, he was still in his general frame and he was trembling with his arms at his sides, servos clenched into fists.   In many ways, when Deszaras had met Hot Rod—the little flame-colored mech reminded him very much of Star Saber.   The way they cared about all living things was _the same_.  Deszaras leaned down and lightly kissed the top of the smaller mech’s helm with warmth and tenderness.

            The old Decepticon general remembered their first time together.   They’d both met on the battlefields, another fight in a long life of fighting one another—their troops all decimated.   Star Saber had just lost his last ally and Deszaras only had Deadlock left.   The old Autobot hero had roared with desperation and launched into combat with something akin to a desire to just die and end it all.   All of Star Saber’s skill was gone, there was _only_ grief and desperation on the battlefield.   To Deszaras it was both tragic and beautiful…………..he never realized how beautiful Star Saber had been, until he’d seen him finally ready to end it all.

            He’d slammed the Autobot to the ground and kissed him.   The response had been ferocious as Star Saber kissed him back.  Before they knew it, they’d been fragging—roaring and crying with one another, with pain and pleasure.   And afterwards, the two had locked optics, realized what they’d done…………..and they chose to put the past behind them.   _War?_    What war was this when everything, _everyone_ , they cherished were all gone?   They chose to join up with one another and decided to **_just live_** from now on.

            Deadlock had complained endlessly about another stupid mouth to feed on their vessel, which had been going downhill and every bit of funding they got were just trying to keep the _Thunder Arrow_ limping along.   He’d _never_ been happy to have Star Saber aboard and he certainly didn’t encourage his commanding officer and the enemy suddenly becoming berthmates.   Until the day he and Star Saber went on a bounty hunting mission together— _that_ was the first time that Deadlock had even known that Star Saber was a normal-sized mech in an expansion of powerful battle armour.

            Confronted with a mech the same size as him that had just saved his life, it had puzzled Deadlock as they caught their prey and turned the bounty in for the reward.   Deadlock had this air of puzzlement for weeks, which had Deszaras amused, because he clearly recognized a longing in his always-so-serious soldier.   Deszaras had always known that Deadlock rarely engaged in any kind of pleasurable activities, so the very strange small crush was quite foreign to the swordsmech.

            From that moment on, Star Saber had become a focus in _both of their lives_.   While Deszaras had a truer form of love for Star Saber, he was able to _share_ the mech who had come into their lives.   For Deadlock, it was a form of respect and physical passion—a different kind of fondness that was nonetheless true.

            And _that_ was another way Deszaras saw in Hot Rod a lot of similarities with Star Saber.   _A mech who was the center of someone’s universe—a mech who held a precious balance between others._    Star Saber was the center of his and Deadlock’s universe now…………and likely forever.

            “Don’t wanna frag, _stupid Deszaras_ ,” Star Saber muttered as the taller mech deposited him in the berth.

            “Then we don’t have to,” the old Decepticon responded with a warm chuckle, yanking back the blankets and sliding in beside his lover.   “But _you_ need to relax a bit.   _Don’t stress yourself out_ —you’ve seen for yourself how badly stress can affect a life and the lives of those around them.   We knew when we took on Hot Rod’s mission that we weren’t going to be able to save them all.”

            “ ** _So stupid_** ,” the red-and-blue mech mumbled, curling into the bulkier mech’s side and laid his head on Deszaras’ shoulder.   “ _So very, very stupid_.  The war’s over and we’re _still_ being killed off.”

            “The **_old_** war’s over, Saber.   Starscream won’t end this new war anytime soon,” Deszaras responded, wrapping his arm around the smaller mech and turning his head to plant a gentle kiss on top of the helm.   “What do you think we should report about the gestalt, Liokaiser?”   He asked.

            “ _Mmm_.   Dunno yet.   Let me get in a nap and then we’ll do something about it,” Star Saber sighed, snuggling a bit closer and grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it up to his shoulder.   He was in recharge mode within a few moments.

            **[Soundwave.   How far away are the next signals of ones in need of rescue?]**   Deszaras said via comm-link to the Decepticons’ Communications Officer.

            **[Six hours away at normal speeds,]** Soundwave’s calm and familiar voice responded.

            **[Deadlock, Soundwave’s going to give you the next planetary coordinates.   He estimates about six hours at normal travel speed.   I know times are desperate, but do not go any faster than that—we should try to scan the planet when we’re in range to prevent a sudden surprise conflict,]** the former Decepticon general comm-linked to his subordinate.

            **[Understood.   But why are you two not fragging?]**   Came the response in Deadlock’s familiar deep voice.

            **[Saber’s too upset right now, he said he’d rather just cuddle and recharge,]** Deszaras replied, a chuckle in his comm-link voice.

            **[He’s such a moron.  I can’t even imagine how he manages to seduce me into the berth half-the-time,]** Deadlock responded with a soft laugh in his deep voice, via comm-link.

            **[Because he is absolutely your type,]** the former Decepticon general teased of his subordinate.

            **[Pfft.   He’s just energetic enough to get me fully charged up is all,]** Deadlock laughed via comm-link.

            **[That’s called _‘type’_ , you know,] **Deszaras teased some more.

            **[ _Tch_.   If you say so, Des,]** the serious swordsmech groaned.

            Deszaras chuckled softly.   Then he turned towards Star Saber’s smaller frame and wrapped his other arm around his Autobot lover.   He set his internal alarm for four hours and then let himself get a little bit of rest and recharge as well.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The next day on Chaar…………..

            Hot Rod asked to accompany Galvatron to try and question Flamewar.   If Cyclonus wasn’t getting anything and Galvatron couldn’t be trusted not to kill her, maybe Hot Rod could talk to her and maybe get her to change sides or something.   Galvatron merely scoffed at the idea and said he’d allow it, but he’d stand in the room to make sure “ _things_ ” did not happen.   Hot Rod had no idea what “ _things_ ” Galvatron meant, but merely attributed it to another Galvatron-ish idea or something.

            “Look……….I appreciate the stunning concept of _‘good cop, bad cop’_ here, but, honestly—I’m an _interrogation specialist_.   You’re not going to make me talk any more than Cyclonus was able to,” Flamewar chuckled softly.

            “But why are you doing this when the war’s over…..?”  Hot Rod asked, keeping his voice calm and soft.

            Galvatron made a dark and angry sound.

            “And there you go,” Flamewar laughed, rolling her shoulders to relax them.   She couldn’t move her arms much, with them cuffed behind her to the chair—as well as her legs bound to the interrogation chair.   “All you’ve done is change the parameters of the war.   _Galvatron_ can clearly see that.   Starscream is upholding Megatron’s ideals and running the war the way **_Megatron_** wished to do in the name of the Decepticon Empire.”

            “ _But it doesn’t have to be that way!_    The programming in those called _‘Decepticons’_ —whether they’re Destrons or Decepticons now—it can be dealt with in _other ways_!”  Hot Rod said, desperately.

            “And **_that’s_** the Autobot way,” the red-and-purple femme chuckled, gazing at Hot Rod with a big smile on her faceplate.   “You’re trying to squeeze the Decepticons into an Autobot mold—you’ve got _this big lug_ under your thumb and……….”

            Instantly, Galvatron was in front of her and had grabbed her by the throat—hauling her up, chair and all.

            “ _Galvatron!   Stop!_ ”  Hot Rod cried, sharply, getting up and grabbing his lover’s other arm with the nova cannon attached to it.

            “I am done with her,” Galvatron said, his voice calm as he set her down and yanked his other arm away from Hot Rod.   “Clearly she has _no intention_ of speaking, so she need not live anymore,” he added, placing the barrel of the nova cannon against her chestplating, right above where her Spark should be.

            “ ** _No_** _!   Galvatron, you **can’t** do this!_”  Hot Rod cried desperately, but was pulled back by Cyclonus.

            “ _Onslaught!_    Come in and retrieve the Prime—this is something he needs not witness!”  Galvatron ordered, loudly.

            Cyclonus handed the little flame-colored mech over to the Combaticon commander.

            “ _Galvatron!   Please don’t do this!   There has to be another way!_ ”  The young Autobot wailed, struggling against Onslaught’s powerful grip.   The leader of the Combaticons said some soft words to the flame-colored mech as he pulled him out of the interrogation room.

            “Go on and do it, _make it hurt_ ,” Flamewar taunted, her attitude fiery and firm.

            “ ** _No_**.   You would like _that_ ,” the Leader of the Decepticons chuckled.   “I will make it very swift and very merciful— _you will not feel a thing_ ,” he added as he began to charge his nova cannon for a sharp piercing shot—which would rip right through her Spark and kill her instantly.   “You will be **_the first_** to ever receive a merciful end from the Emperor of the Decepticons—you should feel very honoured!”   He laughed, his optics glowing fiercely.

            For the first time, Flamewar actually showed fear, as she felt the nova cannon heating up with its charge.   “ _No_ ……….” the femme breathed, incycling and exventing sharply as her frame shook with fear.  “ ** _Nononononono!!!_** ”   She cried, staring up at Galvatron, only to see the fanged grin of pleasure on his faceplate.

            “All you need do is tell me where Starscream is hiding out on the frontier,” the Decepticon Leader whispered, fiercely, still grinning and letting the piercer shot charge to full.

            Part of Flamewar’s chestplate began to melt where the barrel of the nova cannon was touching it.

            “Well, then,” Galvatron said, his optics glowing a fiery red.   “It is too bad, you would have been a wonderful Decepticon to live within my Empire— _I appreciate a good hunter_.   Enjoy the Pit and expect me to hold more conversation with you there one day in a very far future, my dear, for I shall rule there once I am done with this mortal life.”

            Flamewar sobbed and screamed out a set of coordinates, suddenly slumping in defeat when Galvatron pulled his nova cannon away and let the piercing shot go right through the floor.

            “ _Cyclonus_.  Prepare to extradite her to Cybertron,” Galvatron ordered.   “Because the base is mobile, Starscream may no longer be at said coordinates, but it gives us a location to scout out and to project possible other locations for, within the area.   However, _now_ , we shall allow Ultra Magnus to see to her future comforts, I have no desire to allow this femme to be on Chaar’s soil any longer.”

            “I shall do so right away, my Emperor,” Cyclonus responded, giving a deep bow to his lord and lover.   “What about the Prime?   You have wounded him very deeply, my lord………..”

            “It is something I shall deal with,” the Decepticon Leader responded with a soft sigh.   “He says so often he _understands_ and he does not wish me to change—yet he rails and wails when I act like my old self.   This was a moment of desperation, but make no mistake—if this femme had not answered, I would see her dead before me.”

            “Of course, my lord.   It is simply a difficult thing for the Prime to understand,” Cyclonus said, walking over to the communications board against the far wall.   “His Spark is _too kind_.”

            “ _Indeed_ ,” Galvatron said, letting Cyclonus contact Cybertron as he went outside the interrogation room to find Hot Rod in a corner of the preparation room crying and sobbing very loudly.  Onslaught gave a soft shrug at Galvatron and then went into the interrogation room to assist Cyclonus.   The Decepticon Leader walked over to where the flame-colored mech was and reached out a servo to rub the shaking helm gently.   “ ** _Prime_**.   _Look at me_ ,” he ordered, keeping his voice calm and soft.

            “ _No!   I **hate** you!   How could you do this!?_”  Hot Rod wailed, sharply.

            “And if you would calm down, you would realize that the traitorous femme is still quite functioning,” Galvatron said with a sigh.   “And while you are angry with me—I _know_ that you do not hate me.   I do not feel that your _‘love’_ emotion can change so suddenly, since you have had that thing for me for many years now.”

            Hot Rod still cried and sobbed, even as he slowly turned to face Galvatron.

            “You say you do not want me to change, yet this reaction says _you expect me to change_ ,” the grey-and-purple mech said with a deep sigh, folding his arms across his chest.

            “I………I _don’t_ want you to change……….” the flame-colored mech mumbled, softly.

            “My little Prime.   I am a warrior and a war machine.   _Death happens_ , I know that you know this,” Galvatron responded, unfolding one arm from his chest and he reached over to place gentle fingers underneath Hot Rod’s chin.   “ _We are still at war._    Just that the enemy is different now—it is not conflict with Autobots and Decepticons.   We Autobots and Decepticons are now united against Starscream’s Destrons.   You pointed this out to me the other day, did you not?   This conflict will not likely end very soon.”

            Hot Rod’s tear-stained faceplate turned up to look at his powerful lover.

            “This is _not_ something you should allow to bother you.   This is something you should allow **_me_** to deal with—for I can deal with it and not be subject to pain and tears,” the Emperor of the Decepticons said, firmly, rubbing gentle fingers along the littler mech’s jawline.   “ _You_ should continue to focus on the things that you have the skills to deal with.   Allow me to deal with _these_ difficult things,” he added.

            Hot Rod’s mouth moved, but no sounds came out but static and odd little strangled sounds.

            “Do you still hate me, my little Prime?” Galvatron asked as Hot Rod’s servos came up to cup the one Galvatron had on his face.

 

**|No, my lord.   I love you.|**

 

            Despite it being “ _fluffy_ ”, Hot Rod still sent the glyph-message, because he couldn’t trust his voice.

            “Everyone has their parts in war and conflict.   We will find ways to use _your skills_ that do not cause you this suffering from visiting death upon others,” Galvatron said, firmly.   He stepped forwards and scooped the flame-colored mech up into his arms.   He flew to his palace with Hot Rod in his arms and glyphed a message to Carnivac at the embassy to have Slipstream see to the spawns’ comfort for the night—his Prime would remain with him at the palace tonight.

            The Decepticon Leader carried his little lover to the bathing room and started the tub up with swirling water and a more comforting level of heat.   Then he settled into the tub and adjusted his grip to have the flame-colored mech seated comfortably in his lap.   He picked up a cleaning cloth, dampened it, and placed a bit of gel on it.   He raised the cloth and hesitated a moment when he saw Hot Rod gazing up at him.

            “My sexy little Prime—when you look at me like **_that_** , I just want to frag you all night long,” Galvatron teased softly, giving a wolfish grin down at the flame-colored mech.   “Shutter your optics and seal the microseams.   Let me clean your face of all the tear stains.”

            “ _’Kay_ ,” Hot Rod answered softly, doing as his powerful lover asked.

            Galvatron rubbed the cleansing gel all over his little lover’s faceplate, then used several cupped handfuls of water to rinse the faceplate clean.   He dried it gently with a soft towel and tossed it to the side.

            “All right, you may unseal and online your optics now,” the purple-and-grey mech chuckled.   “ _Mmmm_.   I have been bathed before by Cyclonus and by you, however, I did not realize how _enjoyable_ bathing another could be.   I wish to continue with this task, my little Prime!”   He responded, grinning with pleasure at the flame-colored mech.

            “ _Ummm. **Okay**_ ,” Hot Rod murmured, suddenly very shy.   It really _was_ different for Galvatron to pay **_this_** kind of attention to him.

            They both stood up in the center of the large tub, the water came to barely above Galvatron’s armoured knee-plating, but it was almost up to Hot Rod’s hips.   The Decepticon Leader purred softly as he placed more cleansing gel on the cloth and began to run the cloth along the sunbright yellow spoiler fins and his little lover’s backstrut.   He was very pleased to watch the gel foam up on the red, orange and yellow metal of his little Prime’s frame—as well as getting excited himself when he heard the soft gasps and mewls of pleasure from his precious Autobot lover.

            This actually was somewhat enjoyable—a _different type of foreplay_ that he, himself, had never engaged in.   Galvatron was discovering that his little Prime had spots on his lovely little frame that clearly enjoyed the sensation of touch and caress—and _those_ were things he started committing to memory for the future enjoyment of them both.   When the Emperor of the Decepticons asked the flame-colored mech to turn around, so he could cleanse the front side of the smaller frame, he wasn’t really very surprised to find that his lover’s array had snapped open.

            Despite seeing the very full and leaking spike, plus the moist valve, Galvatron concentrated on scrubbing the foaming gel along the so brilliant flames on his little lover’s chestplating.   Those brilliant flames that he adored and believed should belong to _none other but his precious Prime_!   The Decepticon Leader could see the blue glass of his lover’s optics was dim—he’d shuttered his optics again—and the mouth was moving gently, but the sounds were soft and unintelligible.

            Galvatron grinned a wolfish grin, his fangs showing with pleasure as he brought the gel-covered cloth down to the pressurized spike of his precious little Prime.   Hot Rod’s hips rocked against him, gently, as the Decepticon Leader began scrubbing the full spike so teasingly.   He let the cloth tug and tease at the grooves and ridges and lightly pressed a cloth-covered thumb into the small opening of the tip.   Hot Rod gave a strangled whimper and flung his arms up around Galvatron’s neck, rocking harder into his lover’s scrubbing servo.

            “ ** _Gonna_** _……….gonna overload_ ………” Hot Rod groaned, pressing hard against Galvatron’s bulky frame.   “ ** _’M’gonna_** …….” he moaned, back arching as charge exploded through his frame and transfluid shot into the cloth Galvatron had around his spike.   He looked up into his powerful lover’s faceplate, panting softly.   “ _More_ , my lord.   I need **_more_** ……… ** _I need your spike in me_** ……….” he moaned deeply.

            “Of course you do, my little Prime,” Galvatron chuckled, letting the cloth drop into the tub and grabbed Hot Rod’s hips firmly.   He lifted his little lover up and impaled him quickly on his own erect spike.   Hot Rod’s arms tightened around his powerful lover’s neck as the strong arms lifted and dragged him down in a hard, thumping rhythm.

            Hot Rod whimpered and mewled as he climbed towards another overload, leaning back against Galvatron’s arms and letting his powerful lover do all the work.   And after he overloaded again, he begged for **_more_** from Galvatron—and kept begging for more, all night long.   Which Galvatron was really quite happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Novablaze and Stormbreaker are my original characters in these works, I have created pages for them on my Toyhou.se site. My Toyhou.se gallery is generally set up for public viewing, as far as most of the formatting of the site allows. As the two of them grow up and get older, their biographical data will keep evolving and new art will be uploaded for them on a semi-frequent basis. Please feel free to browse their pages (so far), if you like--it's currently only updated to "A Light in the Darkness" (I plan to do some updating for their pages soon with more text and more art).
> 
> Novablaze: http://toyhou.se/3201528.novablaze  
> Stormbreaker: http://toyhou.se/3201530.stormbreaker


	3. A Fortress Among the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Rod speaks with his therapist, while Starscream muses the potential of rebellion from his gestalt. And a long-lost Cybertronian is finally found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fun to rewrite G1S3/4. XD
> 
> Since so much of this is A.U. with reality just barely happening after "The Five Faces of Darkness", a lot of Season 3 was altered in this series--therefore season 4, the Headmasters and all of that simply don't exist in the form we recognize them for. It's also allowed for more adaption of the Japanese series' elements (and characters) to come in with new personalities, new positions and so forth.
> 
> I hope you continue to enjoy this series, even when there's not an explicit scene between Hot Rod and Galvatron. :)

_ Chapter Three:  A Fortress Among the Stars _

 

            Hot Rod frowned as he leaned back on the couch in Mindwipe’s office.   The young, flame-colored mech stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to best answer the question the Decepticon Psychiatrist had asked of him.

            “ ** _I_** ………it’s not as if I _can’t_ fight.   I mean, I _am_ pretty good at it.  I still spar with Galvatron sometimes………” the former Prime responded, his voice low and thoughtful.   “And I _understand_ war.  I _understand_ that fighting can lead to death, but………. _I just don’t like it_.   **_I don’t like death._**    I’m sorry, but I can’t think of how to explain this any better.   I can fight and I can go to war just like any other Autobot or Decepticon, but _I don’t like killing things_ …………I often fight to disable, really.   **_And_** …….I don’t like seeing others die or be killed in front of me.”

            “You’d rather help people live?”  Mindwipe asked, his voice curious.

            “ _That’s_ a pretty accurate statement,” Hot Rod chuckled.   “And look…………I understand this is something Galvatron has no problem with and I really, seriously _don’t want him to change_ ……… ** _I just_** ……..”

            “ _Hmmm_.   What is it you _do want_ of Lord Galvatron?”   The Decepticon asked, softly.

            “He’s going to be _great and amazing_ someday………I guess I’m just a little impatient to see him get there, you know?”   Hot Rod said, reaching his servos up to the ceiling—wishing he could explain everything he saw and felt about Galvatron’s future when they had first Spark-bonded.   “ _I mean…….. **wait**!_   He’s pretty amazing now, but there’s something that’s far off yet………..that’s going to make him _even more amazing_!”

            The Decepticon Psychiatrist chuckled softly.   “Tell me about the Spark-bond and what **_you_** took from it—as clearly for Galvatron the Spark-bonding means he’s merely claimed you as he’s claimed others,” Mindwipe said, very clearly, as he made some notations on his datapad.

            “I talked with Galvatron about the Spark-bonding and all………….and he’s _only_ bound to Cyclonus and Scourge—and **_me_** , of course—because there’s an important reason.   I mean, _as Megatron_ —he had a **_lot_** more Spark-bonds, it was a **_big_** dominance and claiming thing for Megatron.   _Galvatron claims_ , but it is more of choice and necessity for him—he _doesn’t_ do it on a whim like Megatron did,” Hot Rod murmured, staring at the ceiling and motioning with his hands because he couldn’t quite say exactly everything in the true way he actually understood it.   “Yeah, he’s fragged so many Decepticons that I can’t tell you how many.  Yeah, I wish **_I_** could be his _only one_ , but………..out of every other Decepticon he’s fragged, only Cyclonus holds just as much importance to him as I do—all the rest are done on a whim.   Scourge isn’t really high on Galvatron’s priority to frag or keep refreshing the Spark-bonding with.”

            “Why do you say _that_?”   Mindwipe chuckled.

            “Scourge is……..I mean, you know, _he’s kinda whiny_.   Galvatron gets tired of that……he often gets tired of me when **_I’m_** all weepy and whiny, too.    Galvatron primarily Spark-bonded to Cyclonus and Scourge to _save them_ ……….you know, when Unicron died,” the flame-colored mech whispered.   “The three of them were all bonded to Unicron _and when_ ………….when Galvatron held onto the Matrix for a brief time, I think he was given a vision that showed him that if Unicron died—the three of them would die, too.   The Sweeps are all a part of Scourge, really—so it’s a given _they’d’ve_ all died, too.   But really Galvatron _only_ needed to Spark-bond to Scourge.”

            “Are you saying that Galvatron took on the weight of their lives, in place of Unicron?”  Mindwipe asked, the tone in his vocalizer very serious and very surprised.   “But what would have happened should he have died, too?”

            “Yeah.   I know, it doesn’t sound like the Galvatron we all know, but………..it’s the Galvatron **_I’ve_** seen and hope to one day show to the universe,” Hot Rod murmured, bringing his servos to his chest and feeling great warmth for the powerful mech he loved.   “Cyclonus and Scourge are a part of his empire— _an important part_ —and he didn’t want either of them to die.   He very fundamentally knows that a Spark-bond is important and changes those in a Spark-bonded relationship, depending on how often a full bonding is done or is merely an exchange of Sparklight.   It does make a difference on _which bonding is used_ _and how often_.  As for the other, I think— _sometimes_ —that Galvatron is too stubborn to actually die when he’s predicted to.”

            “The more often a full bonding is done, the more you give and lose in a relationship,” Mindwipe said, firmly, nodding at the young, flame-colored mech.    “If we call a full bonding akin to interfacing, then sharing Sparklight is like merely kissing.”

            “ _Exactly_ —and it’s _never_ done lightly.   Cyclonus and I are the _only ones_ who’ve done a full bonding with Galvatron twice, he’s shared Sparklight with me much more often because maybe I’m a bit needy?   But also because of our kids,” Hot Rod explained, going back to waving his servos while he talked.   “Because of our bonding, _I’m_ stronger and I have less anxiety than before—I was much, _much worse_ than this before Galvatron claimed me.   But Galvatron, too— _he gained something_.   **_More mental stability._**    He doesn’t have the obvious helm-sparking anymore— _that processor damage_.   Our bond has helped heal him and stabilize him more.”

            “I was not around to see this, but I’ve heard the talk about it—the Decepticons could tell when Galvatron was about to have a tantrum because of the helm-sparking,” the Decepticon Psychiatrist responded, tapping his stylus lightly against the datapad.   “I’ve seen anger from him, but I haven’t witnessed any tantrums.   So, you are likely right to say that your Spark-bond has improved the quality of _his life_ as well.”   Mindwipe glanced at the chronometer.    “We’ve had a good session today, we can talk a little more if you like, or wait for another time?”   He asked, smiling at Hot Rod.

            “Can I really talk a little more?   I think I’d like to,” the flame-colored mech asked, propping himself up on his elbows to look at the brown-and-purple mech.

            “I have no one else scheduled today, so feel free to stay a bit longer and talk some more,” Mindwipe responded with a light chuckled.

            “Since we were talking about the bonding and claiming and all that……….. _ummmm_ , so about Galvatron claiming me and fragging………..?”  Hot Rod trailed off, softly.   “What do you think about what **_I_** allow for interfacing?   I mean, my human friend, Daniel—he tells me that some light violence and bondage is generally secretive but far more common among humans than people realize.   Springer thinks I’m an absolute moron to let Galvatron smack me around a little and tie me up sometimes.    **_I_** _……….I really don’t mind it._    Galvatron’s like this.   But he’s not _always_ chaining me to the berth and putting dents in my frame, it’s _only sometimes_ and it’s just the way he is and I kind of goad him on for it, too.”

            “As long as you and Galvatron both understand the boundaries of what’s _‘good’_ for the both of you—I don’t think it’s anyone’s business if you want to get a few dents in your frame to have a good time,” Mindwipe responded, laughing softly.   He’d heard a lot of similar things from many of his patients recently—it seemed to be more common among the Decepticons to smack their lovers around a little when fragging, but as they associated more and more with the Autobots and others in the universe, the Decepticons were becoming a bit more secretive about these violent proclivities in the berthroom.

            “See, _that’s_ what Daniel says— _and he’s **a human**!_   He says that it’s okay as long as Galvatron and I still have a healthy interest and respect for one another— _and Galvatron absolutely treasures me_.   He’d never, _ever_ go so far as to do anything that would seriously injure me!”  Hot Rod said loudly, with a deep groan.   “Why do people gotta try and butt in to your personal business?   What you do with your partners when fragging shouldn’t matter to them!”

            “I’m sure part of it is just a form of concern, because _to them_ , **_they_** don’t act like that with their own partners,”   Mindwipe responded.   “But they shouldn’t force their personal views and their ways on you.   You’re free to make the choices that you do.   I don’t think Galvatron would ever do damage to you that could not be fixed—you’re right, he _does_ cherish you.   And while it puzzles him that you are so elevated in his universe—it’s an undeniable fact.   He would tear apart the universe to protect you and that is something very few people can say about their partners.”

            “ _Yeah._     I think that’s something that makes Cyclonus jealous of me,” Hot Rod murmured, softly, starting to twine and pull at his fingers nervously.   “But I’m just as jealous of him—he can stand practically equal to Galvatron…………I just can’t anymore.   _Not in a physical way_.   Galvatron has adjusted his roughness levels with me, because he knows my frame is different and there are times when…….. _I just wish_ ……….Galvatron could go all out with me again.   To chase me, to slam me into rocks and walls— _to make me ache in my whole frame and my array_!!   And Cyclonus gives him so much……….. _does so much for him_ …………and while Galvatron doesn’t outright tell Cyclonus every day that he’s treasured, as that big aft does to me—the positions and equality they share with each other…………. _I’m so jealous of that_.”   The flame-colored mech shuttered his optics and continued messing with his fingers anxiously.   “ ** _I’m so very jealous of that_** ,” he whispered, a little sadly.

            “Are you and Cyclonus still keeping distance from each other, because Lord Galvatron is your buffer?”   Mindwipe asked, making a good number of notes on his datapad.

            “I’m trying to be more friendly with him, but he doesn’t want that,” Hot Rod whispered, onlining his optics again and staring at the ceiling.   “He’s made it clear that he could care less whether I’m here or not.   Some days he says he is grateful for a break from Galvatron—Cyclonus has his own small desires and hobbies outside of Galvatron’s demands for his time.   But………..not too long ago, when they first arrested Flamewar—he did show something, _some kind of concern for my welfare_ ……..when I went to see Galvatron.   But it’s rare he shows any such concerns for me…………”

            “His loyalty and desire is only towards Galvatron—so he knows should something ever happen to you or the offspring, it would upset Galvatron very much, so he will do what he can to _not let that happen_ ,” the Decepticon Psychiatrist said, in a very soothing tone.

            “That’s about the long and short of it, yeah,” the flame-colored mech sighed.   Then he just laid there for a little bit in silence, not sure what else he should or could talk about right now.

            “Think we’re done for the day then?”   Mindwipe chuckled warmly.

            “ _Yeah_.   I can’t think of anything else right now,” Hot Rod sighed.   “ _Umm_ ………..Mindwipe, do _you_ think I’m getting better?   I mean, I still have anxiety and…….. _but_ ………I dunno, it doesn’t feel as intense as before.”

            “I believe you’re _improving_ ,” the Decepticon responded, smiling at the young Autobot as they both rose to their feet.   “You will probably always have your anxiety, but you can lessen it so it won’t cripple you when you need to be strong.   You _could_ take mood stabilizers, but it is something that will lead you to lasting issues of other sorts.   It’s always best to try to avoid resorting to those things.”

            “ _Yeah_.   I’ve got _the kids_ —and while they’re both weaned now, **_I dunno_**.   If I ever want to _have another_ , I don’t want my system to have those kinds of additives in it,” Hot Rod chuckled, stretching and grinning broadly.

            “Do you want to try forging _another offspring_?”   Mindwipe asked, very curiously, because he hadn’t heard Hot Rod mention it before in their talks.

            “One day………… _someday_ …………. ** _maybe_**.   Galvatron and I know how it happens now—how to do it, we could actually _plan_ to have another, if we want.   But this mess with Starscream and all— _it should wait_.   If I want Galvatron to give me another sparkling, I’d rather that we wait until we see how this war with Starscream and his Destrons go, first,” the flame-colored mech answered with a wry little smile.   “But I think I’m _good at it_ —bearing Galvatron some little brats.   It’s easily one of the greatest of _any_ of my accomplishments.    For _now_ , though, I’m going to hope my little bro Daniel has kids soon, so I can see _more little brats_ and become _their friends_.   **_Daniel_** —without him in my life, I _wouldn’t_ be here today.   He was the brightest light in my life and he is my very best friend in the entire universe.   A human’s life may be so short compared to ours, but they live _so fiercely_ and _so passionately_.   That’s really awesome.”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Starscream leaned back in his chair and propped his pedes up on the corner of his desk in the office he shared with his Quintesson partner.   He studied the footage from Liokaiser’s last battle, when he’d faced Deszaras and Star Saber.   He’d watched this footage a dozen times already and he could see that there was _something different_ going on here.  He’d already asked Leozak what happened, as well as speaking with the others, because clearly they were practically disabled in combat.   The others said they couldn’t remember anything, but Leozak just shrugged and said “ _I fought, that’s all._ ” to Starscream and Raj-ur-Malekk.

            “Why is the footage bothering you so much, Starscream?”  The Quintesson biologist asked, hovering past the former Decepticon’s Second-in-Command several times as he worked on his own little personal projects.

            “You’ve never worked with a gestalt before have you?”   Starscream asked.   Even after all this time, he had no clue whether it was alright to call the Quintesson by a shortened version of his name, but it was a pain to say “ _Raj-ur-Malekk_ ” all the time when addressing the Quintesson biologist.   So he tended not to say a name at all and hoped the Quintesson knew when he was being addressed.

            “Such things were not a part of the original designs, so I am uncertain how _those_ even came about in design,” Raj-ur-Malekk responded.   “Without you or your suggestions, our strike force would _not_ be a gestalt.”

            “The Constructicons were first—and Megatron came up with the idea, while Shockwave made the adjustments to their frames.  I capitalized upon this when I came up with new frames for the Combaticons,” Starscream responded.   “The ones that have come afterwards, _those_ were created by Vector Sigma—although some of your Quintesson brethren have _tried to claim credit_ for the Predacons and Terrorcons, they merely stole them from Cybertron as newmechs and brainwashed them a bit.”

            “Capitalizing on something to make a profit—it sounds like those brats,” the Quintesson biologist chuckled, waving a tentacle dismissively.   “Ideally, Vector Sigma was _self-adapting_.   If it saw what Megatron and his scientist had done to the Constructicons’ frames to form the gestalt—it may have adapted that idea into its creation technology for future evolutions of your species.”

            Starscream tapped the datapad against his palm, frowning.   “There’s just something _off_ about this.   A gestalt is a _combination of minds_ —they do not always coordinate **_unless_** they all have a bond.  Hence why many of the Autobot gestalts function better than the Decepticon ones………they _cherish their bonds_ ,” the Destron Commander responded, waving the datapad as he talked.

            “ _Hmmm_.  I think I begin to see your point.  Our strike force is not exactly very tight in their bonds, not all of them at any rate,” Raj-ur-Malekk responded, halting and leaning back against the table he was working at.   “ _So_ , you wonder at their sudden coordination in that fight?”   He asked, hovering over and taking the datapad in a tentacle, gripping his smaller digits around the edge of it, then played the footage again, watching carefully.

            Starscream leaned forwards, resting his elbow-joints on his knee-joints and propping his chin in his palms.   He _shouldn’t_ let this bother him, because he should be celebrating a coordinated fighter in their gestalt, Liokaiser.   But Starscream’s overly-cautious and extremely-suspicious nature made him skeptical and worried about what he was witnessing from their strike force.   _Could this possibly be the beginnings of a rebellion?_

            “ ** _Ah_** _.   I see_ ,” Raj-ur-Malekk chuckled.  He tossed the datapad back to Starscream.   “ _Leozak_ took control of the gestalt.   I am uncertain how he cowed five other minds back, but that is **_his_** way of speaking.   I believe our Leozak has untapped spirit and potential within him.”

            Starscream flopped back into the chair and raised his pedes up to the corner of his desk again, viewing the video on the datapad once more.  Now that his Quintesson partner had said it—he _totally_ saw how Liokaiser’s change was very much Leozak’s personality.   They’d made Leozak commander of the strike force— _because all gestalt teams had one_ —but they hadn’t done so for a specific reason, they just felt he was the most level-headed of the team.

            And yet the newmech was _so submissive_ to Starscream and Raj-ur-Malekk.

            Now there was suddenly bravery and spirit in him.   _What made him change?_    Seeing his fellows in pain from the upgraded sensor array?   _That_ sentiment was more along the lines of an Autobot—and was unwelcome in _the Destron army_.   Such empathy and emotion led to **_rebellion_**.   And Starscream didn’t want to even risk that chance that Leozak could turn the strike force against them all.

            “Surely you’re _not_ going to recommend I dismantle them, are you?   Because they were _expensive_ to make and even if you plant their Sparks in new bodies, their personalities will ever remain the same,” the Quintesson biologist groaned, seeing the familiar look on his partner’s faceplate.

            “I _can’t_ afford any mistakes, you know that,” Starscream muttered.   “I’ve already made some and our plans have had to fall back further.”

            “Then **_use_** them for now—dispose of them only when they’ve accomplished their task.   Flamewar has played _her part_ —she has given us all the information on the layouts on Chaar.   We can plan the assault for when their _‘entertainment district’_ opens,” the Quintesson said forcefully.

            “Galvatron is likely _expecting_ this,” the Destron commander groaned.  “Should we really continue on this path of obviousness………?”

            “Galvatron _wants_ to get to you before you can do anything to Chaar,” Raj-ur-Malekk responded, waving a tentacle dismissively.   “They don’t know that our assault will focus on the palace and the embassy—they’ll be _expecting_ us to focus on the entertainment district, having the concentration of people there.”

            “ ** _Nnngh_**.   _Yes.  All true_.   Meanwhile, I’m going to get some use out of one of our adaptations before the assault,” Starscream said with a devious grin.   “Plus we have _Scorponok_.   They won’t have anything to combat **_that_** —Trypticon is still injured and on Earth, Metroplex is the city housing the Autobots on Earth.   Even if they brought **_all_** their gestalts to play—they will not be able to make a dent on a titan.”

            “ _Exactly_.   So just focus on our plans and don’t let small things distract you,” Raj-ur Malekk responded firmly, waving a tentacle at him in an admonishing manner.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            After going to visit Galvatron at the palace and telling him how the day’s therapy session went—as well as getting in a quick frag and cleanup afterwards—Hot Rod headed back to the embassy and was met with a surprise guest when he entered the lobby………….

            “ ** _Broadside!_**    What are _you_ doing here?”  The young, flame-colored mech laughed, walking over to the seating area.

            The large and bulky Triple-Changer was lying out on the long seating couch with his servos held up as Stormbreaker toddled on his broad chest, clasping the Autobot’s fingers tightly.   Slipstream was on one of the single seats, watching and smiling at the two.

            “ _Hey kid!_ ”  The large Autobot chuckled as Hot Rod leaned over the back edge of the couch and smiled at his sparkling being played with by the red-and-grey mech.   “ _Meh_ , Optimus doesn’t give me much to do like _you_ did, **_so_** ……….I decided maybe it was time to try a new path in life.   You still looking for staff here on Chaar?”   Broadside asked with a big grin.

            “ _Yeah, always!_ ”  The flame-colored mech responded, happily, leaning and crossing his forearms on the back of the couch and gazing down at him.   Stormbreaker seemed solely focused on trying to walk all across Broadside’s big chestplate and she gripped his fingers tightly.   Hot Rod chuckled and reached over to rub her helm lightly, she purred delightfully in response.   “I see my femmeling has made friends with you already.”

            “I remember when Nova was this age—she’s _just as cute_ ,” the Autobot Triple-Changer laughed warmly.   “I also came along with someone who wants to talk to you—a guy named _Cerebros_.   He’s chatting with Brainstorm, since they’re apparently old friends.”

            “Yeah, Brainstorm told me that Cerebros was his commanding officer of their unit out on the frontier,” Hot Rod answered, tilting his head curiously.  “I wonder why he wants to talk to **_me_**?”    The flame-colored mech stood up straight.   “You two mind watching Storm for a little bit longer?”   He asked.

            “It’s no problem,” Broadside chuckled, warmly.

            “ _Indeed_.   Stormy is **_never_** a problem,” Slipstream responded with a smile at Hot Rod.

 

**|Brainstorm, I’m headed for my office, okay?|**

 

            Hot Rod sent the glyph message, because he didn’t want to interrupt his embassy’s IT Director while talking with an old friend.

 

**|We’ll be there momentarily.|**

 

            The flame-colored mech smiled as he walked up the stairs to the second floor, where the offices were.   He was about halfway up the stairs when a familiar warbling caught his attention.   Scattor and Wreckage were hovering about his legs, while Skyboom was at the landing on the second floor, waving cheerfully.   The three Mini-Cons were still fairly attached to him—if they noticed he wasn’t busy, they hung around him.

            “Hey guys, how’s it going?”   Hot Rod chuckled, stepping carefully up the stairs with two of the little mechs wandering about his boots.

            They warbled cheerfully, motioning with their servos as they escorted him up to the second floor landing.   Skyboom added his melodious warbles to his companions’ voices.

            “I hope we can find a way to properly communicate soon,” the flame-colored mech responded with a grin as he walked to his office, with the three Mini-Cons in tow.

            Brainstorm and his friend met them practically right outside the door.   Cerebros was a grey-and-black mech, he had a medical-style facial shield, but an elite soldier’s slender design.   Cerebros’ design was clearly designed for an all-purpose warrior—not the bulk of a frontline soldier, but a slender design for an elite unit kind of soldier.

            “ ** _Oh_** _, Mini-Cons_ —I haven’t seen these kinds of Cybertronians in quite some time,” the grey-and-black mech chuckled as the three small mechs dashed into Hot Rod’s office to claim the best  (and their favorite) seats first.   “They seem _very happy_.   Many of the ones I’ve met have been a bit………..dour and a bit withdrawn.   Mini-Cons are _very special_ , they’re very old.”

            “You’ve met little guys like these before?”   Brainstorm asked, plopping down onto the couch were Wreckage had claimed one end of it for himself.   He held his servo out in a fist and the little yellow-and-grey mech fist-bumped Brainstorm’s servo cheerfully.

            Skyboom was sitting attentively in one of the two chairs on the front side of Hot Rod’s desk, while Scattor was sitting on the front edge of Hot Rod’s desk, whistling happily and bouncing his pedes on the front side of the desk.   Cerebros chuckled and sat down at the empty chair on the front side of the desk while the young, flame-colored mech walked around and took his normal seat at his desk.

            “A similar situation is what I came to speak to you about,” the older grey-and-black mech responded, nodding over at Brainstorm.   “When my unit was on a planet called Dorn, I came across another _very old Cybertronian_.   One who had once been _an elite guardian type_ , known as a **_Delta Sentinel_**.   This Delta Sentinel had been used as a transport for a clan of Quintessons when they were driven from Cybertron—he had been abandoned by the Quintessons, lost and trapped in his alt mode upon Dorn for many millennia.”

            “He couldn’t move?”  Hot Rod asked, a bit of concern tinting the tone of his vocalizer.

            “That’s right, _but_ ………..he said something strange to me.   His accent was _very old_ and his language was akin to what these Mini-Cons speak, but at a deeper range than theirs, due to his massive size,” Cerebros said, leaning back in the chair and resting on servo on the arm of the chair while motioning with the other.   “One of my skills is **_linguistics_** , and I do have a special interest in ancient Cybertronian languages, so I talked with this Delta Sentinel as often as I could while we were on Dorn.”

            “Can you understand _these_ little guys?”   The flame-colored mech asked, awe in his voice, making a sweeping and pointing motion at the Mini-Cons.

            “That’s right.  I don’t have the right pitches in my vocalizer to _speak_ their language, but they understand Modern Cybertronian just fine,” Cerebros chuckled warmly.

            Scattor warbled something and made a motion at Hot Rod.

            “He says something to the effect that they believe _you are awesome_ ,” the grey-and-black mech laughed.   “And this leads me back to the Delta Sentinel.   What he said to me meant nothing at the time, most likely because you weren’t even forged yet and I certainly had _no idea_ who you were or who you would be.”  Cerebros, then, brought up a wrist and uncovered a dataport, nodding at Hot Rod’s computer.   The flame-colored mech swiveled the monitor around and let Cerebros insert his dataplug into the monitor.   There was no visual, just an entire vocal recording.   The tone was deep and the sound was not so different than the Mini-Cons, just slower and deeper in its warbling.   “The Delta Sentinel told me that.   And basically what he said to me was that………. _‘the bright flame will awaken my true form once more’_.”

            “That could really be _anyone_ ,” Hot Rod said, shrugging, a little bit of his own low self-esteem showing.

            “It could, but I’m fairly certain it’s _you_.   The attachment of these Mini-Cons to you makes me consider the fact it is likely you, even more than ever before.  Plus Brainstorm says Galvatron often says he wishes you to be a _fiery flame_ , as he always remembers you being,” Cerebros chuckled softly.

            “ _Galvatron is **Galvatron**_ ,” the flame-colored mech responded with a shrug, but he smiled, because he was well aware that Galvatron wanted him to “ _burn brightly_ ”.    “But even if I went to find this Delta Sentinel, I’m not really certain what **_I_** could do for him.   If I had the Matrix still, maybe I could use the Matrix somehow, but I’m just a normal young mech.”

            “Hot Rod…………did you hear what Cerebros translated though _—‘true form’_ ,” Brainstorm interjected softly.   “The fact that this travel-form mech was called a _‘sentinel’_ means it had a form that had to _somehow_ resemble the Omega Guardians, don’t you think?”   He asked, using the old term for the well-known Guardian Robots whose corpses had littered Cybertron for millennia.   “He’s a _titan class_ Cybertronian………..like Metroplex and Trypticon…………and have you forgotten that you said Starscream’s got one, too?”

            Hot Rod’s optic orbs cycled open wide, making the blue glass coverings glow brightly.   _Scorponok_ —Starscream hadn’t completely revealed his trump card yet (it had only been seen at a space-travel form in a “ _base mode_ ”, while the Destrons had retreated), it was only a matter of time, though.   The young, flame-colored mech had even said to Galvatron several times that they’d be hard-pressed to fight Scorponok, especially with Trypticon still in recovery on Earth’s “ _Dinobot Island_ ” and Metroplex was serving as the Autobots’ embassy and headquarters on Earth.   They really could use a Cybertronian of that size class to assist them for when Starscream finally revealed Scorponok to them.

            “I think I’m going to need to talk with Galvatron and a few others,” Hot Rod said, quietly.   At least Stormbreaker was finally weaned and the flame-colored mech felt a little more comfortable leaving her behind with _proper care_ —Slipstream would easily volunteer to care for her, plus Novablaze would be very protective of his little sister.   Considering the trip out to the frontier before, Hot Rod _did not_ want to risk traumatizing his femmeling ever again.   “Do we have a proper transport?”  He asked, looking at Cerebros curiously.

            “I asked Sky Lynx to bring me here, does _that_ mean anything?”  The grey-and-black mech laughed, making a shrugging motion with his servos.

            “ _All right_.   I’ll need to ask you to stay tonight while I make some preparations.   Galvatron will have a fit if I don’t go out with someone to bodyguard me, too, so I need to check if Sixshot’s available,” Hot Rod answered, rising to his pedes.  “We’ve got plenty of empty rooms that you can choose for recharge tonight, Brainstorm will show you where they’re at.”

            Scattor hopped up, standing in the center of the desk, warbling excitedly at Hot Rod and motioning with his servos.   Skyboom and Wreckage warbled at each other and then added their voices to Scattor’s.   The flame-colored mech tilted his head curiously.

            “They’re insisting on going along and won’t take _‘no’_ for any kind of answer,” Cerebros translated, chuckling and folding his arms across his chest.

            “Somehow I thought that’s what it was,” Hot Rod responded, smiling at them and patting Scattor’s head as he headed out of the room to go find Galvatron and Cyclonus and hold a conference with them and Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime via subspace communiques.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            As it turned out Galvatron was of the mind:  “ _By all means!   Recruit a new titan for my Decepticon Empire!_ ”—not even stopping to think that this Delta Sentinel may not even choose to join the Decepticons, for one thing.   But despite _that_ particular detail, if this Delta Sentinel was waiting for Hot Rod—for some odd reason—odds were that this ancient titan mech would be willing to help in the fight against the Destrons.

            Sixshot accompanied Hot Rod, as his bodyguard—the old Decepticon warrior rather took on the position officially when he started [unofficially] began seeing Slipstream.   It gave him a reason to be at the embassy after all, without being technically employed there and Galvatron trusted the old Decepticon warrior very much.   Cerebros was along to guide them to where the Delta Sentinel was on the planet Dorn.   The three Mini-Cons who were obsessed and attached to Hot Rod came along, as well.   Broadside came along as well, since he had no official position at the embassy right now and was bored and wanted something to do.

            “You know, Prime………..something you should know, those Mini-Cons can merge together into a single form,” Sixshot said, chuckling warmly as he saw the three small mechs crowded around Hot Rod’s legs.   “ _A sword_ —they merge and become a sword.”

            “That’s…………really interesting.   I wish I could find out why they’re so attached to me, though.  Being classified as _‘awesome’_ by ancient mechs means they clearly got the word from Novablaze—who got it from Daniel.   But _‘awesome’_ is a pretty vague classification,” the young, flame-colored mech said, softly, a chuckle in the tone of his vocalizer.   He reached down and patted the heads of the three little mechs.

            “Maybe it has to do with your _potential_?”  Cerebros interjected, walking over and placing a servo on a hip while he waved the other one as he spoke.   “The Matrix of Leadership saw something within you—Galvatron knows there’s something within you, you two are Spark-bonded……..clearly there is _something_ there, something that hasn’t been completely fulfilled yet.”

            Hot Rod gave a light shrug, but inwardly, he also remembered his death-experience conversation with Arrowshot on the fringes of the Afterspark and the Matrix.   Everything Arrowshot told him………that he was meant to be Rodimus Prime for **_centuries_** , not just a handful of years.   That was something else that fell into the idea that Hot Rod had great and not fully realized potential.   Even so, though, he had no idea how he was to reactivate and “ _fully awaken_ ” this giant Cybertronian.  

            “I wouldn’t let it bother ya, kid,” Broadside laughed, warmly patting the flame-colored mech’s shoulder.   “You’re pretty good at adapting in the moment.   You always have been.   You’ll figure it out when it’s right there in front of you.”

            When they arrived on the planet Dorn, Cerebros gave a brief rundown of the world and its setting.   It was mostly tropical, except at the poles (which were frozen), due to the proximity to its system’s sun, fast rotation and no tilt to the planet.   The continent where Cerebros had found the Delta Sentinel was a lush, overgrown jungle………..there were few places where Sky Lynx could land, so the mechs aboard had to all disembark in the air miles from the actual location—and basically “ _crash land_ ” into the jungle on their own pedes.

            “This way,” Cerebros said, starting to lead them through the mass of vines and fallen tree trunks.

            “Let me cut the way through, you just give me the direction,” Sixshot began, pulling his blade from his back and raising it.

            “You’re going to wreck your blade, the foliage here is _very dense_ ,” the grey-and-black mech chuckled softly.

            Sixshot made a snort and then gave a deep groan when his blade cut just about an inch into the vine he swung at and got stuck.   “ _Tch_.   Well, now what—Broadside and I are going to have real difficulties getting through this………?”   The old Decepticon warrior sighed.

            “Sixshot, use your Panther form—Broadside, why don’t you fly overhead and keep up with us via your positioning programs,” Hot Rod said, motioning at the two.   “Cerebros, lead the way……..”

            “Understood, Prime,” Sixshot chuckled, transforming into his beast mode.

            “Got it, kid,” Broadside laughed, leaping up and tearing through some minimal foliage to transform into his plane mode.

            The three Mini-Cons had no trouble making their way through the foliage, while it was a little difficult for Hot Rod and Cerebros to squeeze through in a few places.   In his Panther form, Sixshot had no issues at all trying to squeeze through the dense foliage.   Hot Rod would not have even realized they’d approached the ancient Cybertronian if the oldmech hadn’t sent out a warbling greeting in his very deep voice…………it made the whole area rumble and quiver.

            The Delta Sentinel was so covered in vines and greenery, the flame-colored mech couldn’t even see what this form actually looked like, nor what colors the armour and the derma were.  Cerebros greeted the Delta Sentinel kindly, his warbling tone not as high-pitched as the Mini-Cons’, nor as deep and rumbling as the oldmech’s before them.   The Mini-Cons all piped up, speaking to the Delta Sentinel excitedly, and cherishing the slow and deep warbling responses.

 

**|Broadside.  I’d like you to keep patrolling, but mark this area.   I don’t like to sound paranoid, but I feel like we’re being watched down here—and not by the Delta Sentinel.|**

 

**|Got it, kid.   It’s probably better I’m not trying to move my bulky ol’ aft around there anyways!|**

 

            The Autobot Triple-Changer’s glyph-message was tagged with a glyph representing amusement and good humour.   It made Hot Rod smile—he’d always liked Broadside back when he’d been on Earth and when he was the Autobot Leader.   The grey-and-red mech was always in a good mood and he was a lot like a “ _big brother_ ”—watchful and protective of the other Autobots around him.   His larger bulk and frame over other Triple-Changers like Sandstorm and Springer made much smaller Autobots feel safe in his presence.

 

**|I…….or Sixshot……..will glyph you if there’s trouble.   Exchange your PCC with him, if you could.|**

**|Yep.   Done and done, kid.|**

 

            “Galvatron would have a fit to know you exchange PCCs so _randomly_ —besides the fact that you using them for _‘fluffy’_ things,” Sixshot chuckled, transforming into his primary mode and getting the ping from Broadside to exchange PCCs.

            “Oh, trust me—I get the _‘stop using glyph-messages for fluffy things’_ lecture **_all the time_** ,” Hot Rod laughed as they walked beside Cerebros, who was still communicating with the Delta Sentinel.

            “And yet, he _still_ lets you do it.   If it were any other Decepticon that _‘fluffy messaged’_ him, he’d have had us shot and our corpses put on display as an example!”  The old Decepticon warrior laughed warmly.

            “ _Here_.   He says there’s an entrance into his travel-form frame here,” Cerebros responded, grabbing a few vines and tugging on them. 

            The three Mini-Cons started doing the same and then Sixshot and Hot Rod grabbed handfuls of foliage and began to tear them away.   The door was a bit bulked out from the frame and a color of a deep blue, though smudged with green—it was clearly a loading hatch with a ramp.   As the mechs all backed away, the Delta Sentinel opened the loading hatch and the group walked up the ramp carefully.   Runner lights went along the walls, but there were no overhead lights.

            “He doesn’t have enough power to light up the interior, so we’ll need to use our infrared vision here.   He’s been feeding on geothermal energy and solar energy—not enough to completely keep a full charge for a mech of his size and bulk,” Cerebros explained, quietly.   “It’s just enough to keep him alive, is all.”

            All six of the mechs, large and small, switched their optical viewing over to “ _night vision_ ”, making their own individual optical glass glow brightly.   The three Mini-Cons had some soft yellow biolighting on their small frames, so they could easily be picked out in the darkness.   Hot Rod still had a very strong sense that they were being watched, regardless of what any of the rest of the group was thinking.   The young, flame-colored mech kept looking around, scoping out every corner of the corridors they were walking down.

            There was a deep, warbling from the Delta Sentinel.

            Cerebros made everyone stop in a large opened up room—it looked like a central hub, to branch out into several areas.

            “Don’t be aggressive and they won’t attack,” Cerebros said, softly.

            “ _What_ won’t attack?”   Sixshot inquired, the tone in his vocalizer just as soft as Cerebros’ voice.

            “He says some mechs have taken refuge inside of him, believing this just to be an old ruin.    They’re small and they’re scared and they’ve been here alone for a very long time,” the grey-and-black mech murmured.

            “Autobot or Decepticon?”  The old Decepticon warrior whispered.

            “He doesn’t know that concept—those brands came after his time,” Cerebros answered, quietly.  “The first symbol was the ones the Autobots took, adapted, and was known back then as the _‘slave brand’_ , it was only branded upon the consumer goods line—not the military hardware line, for obvious militaristic reasons.”

            “But you fought Decepticons when you were on this world, didn’t you?”  Sixshot murmured.

            “Yes, but like many of the campaigns out here on the frontier……….we fought until we were no more or we drifted away from combat with one another.   These mechs could’ve drifted away from the fighting and are now living together on their own— _to survive_ ,” the grey-and-black mech responded in a quiet tone.

            “You’ve worked out on the frontier longer than I have, helping to get my message of peace out there……..I know you’ve seen how _desperate_ some have become on both sides,” Hot Rod added, softly, placing a gentle servo on the old Decepticon warrior’s shoulder.   “ _Hello, fellow Cybertronians!_    My designation is Hot Rod and I come to you peacefully—the war is over and we are trying to find those lost and to bring them home!”  The flame-colored mech said in a louder voice, stepping into the center of the room with his servos raised in a peaceable gesture.

            As the young, flame-colored mech’s optics looked about the room, he suddenly saw three sets of glowing optics staring down at them from high on the walls—perches or they were clinging to the walls.  One set of optics was fierce red, another was a creepy green and the third set of optics were a pale golden.   Growls of three different tones responded…………and not in a very friendly manner.

            “ _Leave our nest_ ,” one voice said, the underlying tone angry.

            “ _Not welcome here_ ,” another voice added, their underlying tone was scared.

            “ ** _Will protect our nest!_** ”  The third said, fiercely, as the glow of the yellow optics seemed to move and launch right into their group.

            Hot Rod hopped back as the figure came down before him—he felt a rush of air and cool metal sweep a mere couple inches right before his chest.   The other two launched themselves at Hot Rod as well, which was when Sixshot dashed forwards, pushing the younger mech back and gripped the glowing sword which was the three Mini-Cons combined.

            “ _Sixshot—don’t hurt them…….. **they’re scared**!   We need to get through to them!_”   Hot Rod snapped as he felt Cerebros lift him up by his shoulder than help him to his pedes.

            “I understand that, Prime—but I’d really rather _not_ have to take you home in pieces!”  Sixshot responded, placing all of his focus on combat.   As he swept the Mini-Con combined-form sword at the attackers, he got a fairly good look at the three shorter mechs.   They were all in beast-forms and weren’t much bigger than a Minibot—like the Autobot, Bumblebee.   “ ** _Wait_** _………..I know you three!_ ”   The old Decepticon warrior gasped.

            They hopped back, to get out of the light of the glow from the sword, moving back towards the corners and kept their optics locked on Hot Rod, rather than any of the others.

            “ _Not go back!_ ”   One whimpered.

            “ _Not want to fight no more!_ ”   Another cried.

            “ _Want to be left alone_ ………….” the third mumbled sadly.

            Suddenly one of them opened their jaws and a super-hot white flame shot out.

            Sixshot leaped back, but stayed protectively between Hot Rod and the three smaller beast-form mechs.   “They’re a small elite unit—assigned merely to cause chaos and destruction before a military force would arrive somewhere.   They were called _‘Firecons’_ , but I’ve never seen them cling to their beast-forms like this……..in the past they were much like most of the other Cybertronians, preferring their primary form over their alt modes,” he said to Hot Rod and Cerebros.

            “They’ve gone **_feral_** —lost their civility because they’ve been left alone in the wilderness for so long,” Cerebros responded, the tone of his voice sympathetic.

            “ _They’re scared_ ,” Hot Rod whispered.   “Their EM fields are being held pretty tight, but I’m a bit sensitive to fields, probably because of my little brats,” he added with a light chuckle.   “I can feel that they’re scared and it’s showing in at least one of their voices.”

            “I don’t doubt that due to their size—the other Decepticons in their military assignment abused them in many ways,” Sixshot muttered, darkly.

            “ _Please—let us help you!_    We’re not here to hurt you at all………we came to speak to the Delta Sentinel!   He’s the one whose body you guys are living in!”  Hot Rod called out to them, taking a few steps forwards, past Sixshot, and letting his EM field ripple out with warmth and kindness.

            “ _Ruins………….are a…………Cybertronian?_ ”  One of the voices mumbled, a tone of awe in it.

            “ _Must explain rumbles.   And why lights go on and off_ ,” another of the voices whispered.

            “ _You promise you will not hurt?_ ”   The last of the voices asked, hopefulness within his tone.

            “ ** _I swear it_**.   Upon Primus and the Afterspark, if I must,” Hot Rod chuckled, he bent down and stood on his knees, servos out in welcome.

            The three small beast-form mechs slowly crept out of their corners and Hot Rod could slightly make out their forms in the light from the combined, glowing, sword-form of the Mini-Cons in Sixshot’s servo.

            One looked like some hybrid of a Praying Mantis and a bird, to use the Earth animals as a basic description.   His colors were a red-violet, grey and dark purple.   Another one had the colors of blue, both lighter and darker, and looked to be a hybrid between a bird and a lizard.   The third looked to be an odd combination of a Hedgehog and Frilled Lizard, with a color scheme of purple and garish yellow-green.

            They plodded over to Hot Rod and nuzzled against the young Autobot, who tried his best to wrap his arms around all three small beast-form mechs.   He hugged them warmly and let his EM field comfort them.   He felt their small fields ripple around his, relief and happiness in them all.

            “ _Sparkstalker_ ,” the red-violet mech murmured.

            “ _Flamefeather_ ,” the blue-colored mech introduced.

            “ _Cindersaur_ ,” the purple mech whispered.

            “As I said before, I’m _Hot Rod_ ,” the flame-colored mech said, softly, hugging the three as they kept nuzzling up against him—as if so starved for a kind touch they couldn’t let go of him.   “My friends are _Sixshot_ and _Cerebros_ ………the Mini-Cons who make up the glowing sword are _Scattor, Skyboom_ and _Wreckage_.   Outside of the Delta Sentinel, two more friends are flying around……… _Broadside_ and _Sky Lynx_.”

            “Is true that this ruin is one of us?”   Sparkstalker whispered, his strange-looking face turning up to look into Hot Rod’s, his golden optics glowing somberly.

            “Yes, he’s an ancient Cybertronian from the era of the Quintessons.   I came out here to see if I could help him, Cerebros says he has been unable to change into his primary mode for a very long time,” Hot Rod responded in a quiet voice.

            “Could be……….‘cause of injured one in closet?”  Cindersaur murmured, his lizard-like head turning up to look into Hot Rod’s faceplate curiously.

            “ _Injured one?_ ”  Cerebros said, softly.

            “ _Closet?_ ”  Sixshot added, letting go of the sword and letting the Mini-Cons take their regular form again.

            “Can you show us this injured one in the closet?”  Hot Rod asked, standing up as the three small beast-form mechs crowded about his legs.

            A deep, rumbling warble resounded throughout the Delta Sentinel’s interior.   The Mini-Cons looked at the three new acquisitions a bit jealously, as if Hot Rod was theirs alone to crowd around.

            “He thinks that they mean the……….. _pilot_?   I’m uncertain how to translate his word, the closest I can come is _‘pilot’_ ,” Cerebros says as they began to follow where the three Firecons were leading them.

            “A Quintesson?”  Sixshot asked, a bit puzzled as he brought up the rear with the Mini-Cons hovering about him, since the Firecons were huddled around Hot Rod.   “A modified Sharkticon, like Raj-ur-Malekk’s Rawjaw?”   He mused.

            “It seems like they all are referring to a _‘mech’_ —so someone like us,” Cerebros answered, shrugging lightly.

            They walked down a couple of corridors and finally came to a room that wasn’t unlike an engine room in a ship.   It was considerably larger than a mere “ _closet_ ”, but………Hot Rod could see where the Firecons were coming from on those thoughts.   It was a room rarely used and that could very well be a “ _closet_ ”.   Inside was a deceased mech that looked to be basically like a Cybertronian.   He had a body design a little like Cerebros’, except he had some blue on his grey-and-black frame.  Plus a back design that said he transformed into some sort of weapon-laden vehicle.   The mech had been long dead, with dulled colors on his frame…………it looked like some trauma to the head, which seemed to be caved in on one side.

            A deep warble sounded from the Delta Sentinel.

            “He calls this _‘pilot’_ by the designation of **_‘Cog’_**.   With the loss of this _Cog_ , he can no longer take on his true form,” Cerebros murmured.   He placed fingers in a cupping gesture around his facial shield.   “I wonder if it’s some sort of combining form, just not in the way we’re used to.”

            “You may be right about that,” Hot Rod said.   “ _Hmmm_ ……….I know we’ve been calling him merely the _‘Delta Sentinel’_ , but ask if he has a **_designation_** we can call him.   If this Cog had a designation, then I’d bet the Delta Sentinel has one as well.”

            Cerebros made a warbling sound to the downed travel-form mech around them.

            “ ** _Oh_**.   Well _that_ is interesting,” the grey-and-black mech chuckled warmly.   “He said it’s been such a long time since anyone had called him by his designation that he just stopped using it.   He said he is the twelfth Delta Sentinel and his designation is **_Fortress Maximus_**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will soon have to update tags. I sometimes hold off on tags for multi-chapter 'fics, because characters can spoil plot, actually. And this one needed to be a surprise up until the end.
> 
> Funny thing, as I was writing this, I almost--ALMOST called the "Guardian Robots" as "Omega Sentinels"--that's what DreamWave actually called them in their comics. I used a compromise with "Omega Guardians", so that my titan class robot could be called a "Sentinel". :)
> 
> While it's true that Cog was not Fortress Maximus head or core piece (merely an additional vehicle)........this is where re-write and A.U. spinning off comes into play. It isn't as if I brought Cerebros into the main continuity for nothing, though..........so, I think you can grasp what will happen next, as far as Fortress Maximus is concerned.


	4. Even Kindness Can Be Your Shackles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galvatron has a sparkling crisis to deal with, even as Hot Rod is given new information on lost Cybertronians while he tries to deal with the Fortress Maximus issue. And Starscream sets new plans in motion, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...........the new world I introduced is merely a way for me to flaunt my Japanese (*chuckle*) and show, again, that all species in the galaxy speak different languages, even though these stories are written in English with English words to even say so-and-so translated it. Without being able to print the kanji here or to use the symbols above letters to show an lengthened vowel sound, I've done what I've been taught in writing Japanese in "Romaji", the Romanized representation of Japanese. Therefore sometimes multiple kanji can have the same pronunciation and some "same words" may have different meanings. I've tried to use a common meaning, relevant to the story and the characters when using my Japanese here to keep it simple.......if people try to look things up. Long vowel sounds of "O" and "U" are represented by Romanization usage of "ou" and "uu", respectively (though some people may use "oo" for the lengthened "O" sound, I was taught to use "ou"). :)
> 
> While I did not reveal their Cybertronian names yet, I gave you enough clues to know who the two new Cybertronian-descended characters are. :D

_ Chapter Four:  Even Kindness Can Be Your Shackles _

 

 

            While Hot Rod was gone, Carnivac and Twinferno had moved Stormbreaker’s playpen out to the main lobby area, by all the couch seating.   With the young flame-colored mech absent, Galvatron didn’t feel much like wandering around the embassy in order to find his spawn—so, he’d requested everyone stay in the lobby area during the majority of the day.

            Slipstream, as the babysitter at this time, didn’t really mind—she was pretty much the official “ _greeter_ ” for the embassy, so (in time) her job duties would require her to be in the lobby area anyways.   Novablaze was working on practicing his writing and glyphs with a few learning programs that were installed on a tablet, just for him………otherwise, every so often he and the Terrorcons would rush off to the entertainment room to watch some television for a few hours each day.   Slipstream knew that Novablaze would be responsible and the Terrorcons would ferociously protect the young mech, so much of her attention was simply focused on Stormbreaker— _who napped at least half of the day_ —allowing her to catch up on historical documentation of the war back on Cybertron and as it spread to Earth and everything that happened from there.   Things she _hadn’t_ known about, being out on the frontier.

            However, when **_the disaster_** struck…………Slipstream was curled up in one of the single seat chairs, reading, while Novablaze was lying on the floor in the circular area formed by the lobby seating.   The young mech was humming as he drew glyphs on the tablet with his fingers and the program praised or admonished him depending on if he wrote them right or wrong.

            Stormbreaker broke into a Spark-wrenching wailing, the pitch of her tiny voice higher than any normal set of audials could handle.

            “ ** _Stormy!_**    _Stormy, what’s wrong?!_ ”  Novablaze cried, instantly up on his pedes and leaning over into the playpen.

            “ _Stormbreaker, are you all right???_ ”  Slipstream gasped, instantly leaning over the playpen as well.

            She was hugging the plush grey kitty tightly and then Novablaze saw it, the leaking interior stuffing of the kitty was falling out—there was a great big gash in the side of the plush.

            All of the sudden, Galvatron had flown through the doors of the embassy—though careful [ _this_ _time_ ] to **_not_** break the doors off their hinges—he opened them and shut them normally, but the Decepticon Leader’s head whipped around the whole lobby area looking for an enemy the very instant he was in the lobby area.

            “ ** _Where is the one who has made my Stormbreaker cry?!_** ”   Galvatron thundered, stomping over to the seating area and folded his arms angrily.

            “ _It’s_ …………it’s her kitty, sire.   _Her kitty’s broken!_ ”   Novablaze said suddenly.

            Galvatron looked into the playpen and saw his little femmeling holding the plush animal leaking soft fiber from a large gash.   Galvatron was angry, but mostly at himself now— ** _this_** was something he could not fix.   Nothing in his skill set would allow him to repair his femmeling’s most precious treasure.   He was angry because he _could not_ fix what made Stormbreaker cry.

            “Come here my little one,” the Decepticon Leader said in a soft voice, reaching down to pick up the little red femmeling.

            Stormbreaker swiped hard at her sire’s servo, still crying very loudly.   Novablaze was in shock—Stormbreaker _adored_ their sire and **_always_** demanded his attention.   For her to lash out at Galvatron meant she was very upset indeed.

            “I see that even calm words will not work on her, she is too much like her carrier,” Galvatron muttered.   “ ** _Ngghhh_**.   _This_ I cannot fix.   I do not know what to do.”

            Suddenly the lobby doors swung open and an Autobot with two human-sized companions in the new, streamlined exo-suits entered the embassy.

            “ _Hey, hey Galvatron!_    I’m here to do my geological survey!”   Doctor Jones laughed good-naturedly.

            “ ** _I have no time for excessively cheerful fleshlings!!!  Can you not see we are in crisis here?!_** ”   Galvatron roared, whipping the arm with his nova cannon over towards the door.

            The other human cringed and dashed behind Jazz, who was the Autobot that accompanied them.   The other Autobot had just come in through the door and stood with the human behind Jazz—it was Beachcomber.

            Thomas Jones looked at the readings and saw the atmosphere was normal in the embassy, so he removed his exo-suit back into the compact bracelet and walked over to the seating area quickly, his white lab coat rippling out behind him.   He could hear the crying, which he suspected must belong to the little female sparkling of Hot Rod and Galvatron’s, but the playpen’s walls were too large for him to look into it.

            “Is she sick?   Have you called one of your medics?”   The human father asked, a bit of concern in his voice.   He looked around and saw a footrest that was about up to his chest and struggled to drag it over to the playpen to stand on it and look in to see what was wrong.

            “Her treasure is broken, I _cannot_ fix something like this—my nova cannon and my voice cannot fix _this_ situation,” Galvatron growled, frowning deeply and looking at the scratches on the back of his one servo.

            “ _Oh_ , the poor baby girl………..her kitty is hurt,” Thomas sighed softly.   “But I have good news!   I _think_ I can fix this!”   He said, brightly, looking up at Galvatron.   “ _Hey, Rad!_    Bring me the first aid kit!”

            “You truly can fix her treasure?”  The Emperor of the Decepticons asked softly, looking down at the human father.

            “I think so.   I may not be the best at sewing things up, but in college I had to fix my shirts and socks an awful lot—so I can at least sew up the gap and all,” Thomas said, softly.   “ _Come on, Rad—can’t you see a little baby girl is in peril?!_ ”   He yelled, motioning over towards his human companion with frustration who had just shed his exo-suit and was rifling through a duffle bag.

            “Really, doctor………….you’re going to use first aid supplies on a _plush animal_?”  The young man said with a sigh, walking over and handing the kit up to his boss, who was standing on the Transformer-sized footrest.

            “That’s right, **_I am_**.   A child is in crisis—I can tell you’ve _never_ had a child!”  Thomas chided, taking the sewing kit from his assistant.   “Hey sweetie, can I have your kitty?   I’m a doctor, I can fix your kitty,” he said, leaning over the edge of the playpen and smiled down at the wailing Stormbreaker.

            Galvatron reached into the playpen again and spoke in Cybertronian to his little femmeling, explaining that the human was a medic and he would help the plush kitty get better.   Stormbreaker sobbed and her mangled little Cybertronian words were even harder for the Decepticon Leader to understand than her regular “ _sparkling words_ ”.   Galvatron calmly repeated that the doctor would fix the kitty to her again and made a motion with his servo to get her to hand the plush animal to him.   With trembling arms and hiccupping, static-filled sobs, the little red femmeling gave her sire the plush animal and watched as he handed it to Thomas Jones.

            Then Galvatron picked up his female sparkling with his gentle grip on the back of her neck and placed her in the crook of his arm, as he usually did.   That way she was high enough up to watch the human fix the plush animal.

            “ _Fizz kdy?_ ”  Stormbreaker asked, her English even harder to understand than her Cybertronian.  Then she stuck her servo in her mouth and watched the older human carefully press the loose stuffing back into the plush—asking Novablaze to collect the rest of it lying about in the playpen for him.

            “That’s right sweetie, I’m going to fix your kitty,” Thomas chuckled, grinning up at her.   “Rad, get me a gauze pad about the size of your palm and cut about two feet of wrap for me.   Then get out the heavy duty medical tape,” he said to his young assistant.

            “Whatever you say, doc,” Rad responded with a sigh, getting on that task right away.

            As soon as he’d pushed all the stuffing back into the plush cat, he started sticking the needle through the fabric to sew up the gash.   Stormbreaker made a little whimpering noise.   Galvatron said something to her, gently, in Cybertronian—which Thomas assumed was some sort of explanation that this was what a doctor did to fix things.   The human scientist found it very interesting to hear natural Cybertronian spoken so openly………he rarely heard it between the Autobots back on Earth or on Athenia, they openly spoke whatever language they were in the country of at the time—often English.   It had a guttural sound, with some clicks and hissing in it—like the sound of spoken Slavic or a few other Earth languages.

            The other thing that Thomas Jones found very interesting was how very much like a father Galvatron _could be_.   Yes, he clearly had a temper that could put fear into anyone.   Yes, stories about Galvatron’s savagery were well-known.   Yes, he may have picked up his femmeling like a cat, but he spoke gently and kindly to her………..and likely used his EM field to soothe her.   As a human, Thomas didn’t know much about a Transformer’s EM field, but his son, _Kicker_ , could sense them………..so he knew their existence was real and it was a way for Transformers to also emotionally communicate with one another.

            And if there was one thing Thomas Jones truly understood, with two children of his own, it was how the pain of a child could make a parent do anything more than what they would normally do in their day.   _Even a parent like Galvatron._    He finished sewing up the gash in the plush cat’s side and then knotted the thread and had Rad cut it.

            “ _All right_ ,” the older human man chuckled, hopping down off of the footstool.  “Novablaze, please hold on to the kitty for me—Rad, you hold the gauze pad firm over the wound,” he said, smiling at the two.

            Novablaze nodded and held onto the plush cat by placing his servos around its face and tail-side.   Rad lightly held down the gauze pad while Thomas wrapped the bandage wrap over the gauze pad and around the barrel of the kitty’s plush form.   He wrapped it around about three times before using the medical tape to seal it firmly

            “There we go,” Thomas chuckled, taking the plush cat from the young mech with a grin.   “Here you go, sweetie, your kitty is fixed.   But be careful—kitty is _fragile_ so don’t play roughly with it, okay?”   He said, handing the plush animal up to Galvatron

            “ _Kdy fizzed?_ ”  Stormbreaker mumbled, patting the plush as Galvatron held it next to her.

            In Cybertronian, Galvatron said to her as she took it and hugged it:  “Your treasure is fixed, but will need to be treated kindly as it recovers.   Leave the bandages on for a while.”   Then he looked down at the human scientist.   “I appreciate your kindness.   However, even **_I_** know that a plush animal’s injuries cannot heal as a living being’s does.   How do I explain this to her in the end?   Or am I to leave the bandages on forever?”   He asked, firmly, using Earth English.

            “Here, I will explain it to her, but it seems you may have to translate—she doesn’t know much galactic standard or Earth languages does she?   Can you kneel so that she sees my example?”  Thomas responded, very seriously.

            Galvatron knelt and said to his femmeling that the medic wished to explain something to her.

            Thomas Jones rolled up a sleeve on his left arm to reveal a very visible scar on the top of his forearm, which ran from elbow to wrist.   “When some things are injured, even after they are healed, they leave scars,” he said and waited for Galvatron to translate that to her.   “Unlike Cybertronians, we cannot buff injuries out of our bodies.   So we are left with _scars_ —they don’t hurt, but serve as reminders at how fragile life can be.”

            As Galvatron said the words to her, softly, in Cybertronian……….Stormbreaker reached down and lightly pushed a finger against Thomas’ scar.   “ _No hurr?_ ”  She mumbled in very harsh English.

            “No hurt,” Thomas said, smiling at her.   “Your kitty will have a scar once the bandages are removed.   It will not look pretty, but it will not hurt the kitty.”

            Galvatron translated that and then Stormbreaker looked down at the human man, her violet glass-covered optics glowing brightly.  “ _Thaaas ferrr fizz kdy_ ……..” she said very slowly in a very rough form of English.

            “You are very welcome, sweetie,” Thomas chuckled, reaching up and gently stroking her helm as he’d seen Hot Rod and Daniel do very often.

            “I very much appreciate you repairing her treasure,” Galvatron said, nodding as he rose back up on his pedes.   “You are here to do what, now?”   He asked, tilting his head with bewilderment.  “My Prime is currently absent and I outpaced Cyclonus to get here, so………..?”  He trailed off.

            “I’m here for the _geological survey_.  Remember, I said I’d come back and look for buried treasure in Chaar’s rocks and stuff?”  The scientist said, laughing warmly as he shoved his hands into his lab coat’s pockets.   “This is my college intern and lab assistant, _Rad_ —he’s going to help me out.  Beachcomber came along, since he’s the Autobot’s chief geologist.   I **_will_** need someone to help me dig, though…………any of your Decepticons good at digging?”   He chuckled, grinning up at Galvatron.

            “Yes, that is right—you have come to see if I have tradeable treasures in the depths of my planet,” Galvatron responded, nodding as if he completely understood everything now—even though he most definitely did not.   “I believe Scavenger might be of assistance and perhaps Mixmaster may be able to help you classify elements that you do not know of.   _Cyclonus!_ ”   He said, loudly, as he saw his lieutenant quickly come in the door, so as not to disturb the human-beneficial atmosphere in the embassy.  

            “Yes, my lord?”  The loyal purple-and-grey soldier said, striding over and bowing humbly.

            “Scavenger can dig and Mixmaster knows rocks and elements, is this not correct?   Or are there better assistants I may have to attend to the human’s geological survey?”   Galvatron said, firmly.

            Cyclonus’ optics were glued to the scratches on the back of Galvatron’s servo, the one attached to the arm he was holding Stormbreaker with.   “They should suffice, my Emperor.   There are also those three Autobots apprenticing with the Constructicons—I am certain they would be willing to assist as well.   Are you injured?”   He inquired, pointing to the scratches.

            “Why Cyclonus, you know things like this are _merely superficial_!   It shows that my dear little Stormbreaker has very sharp claws!”   Galvatron said, roaring with laughter.    He reached over with his free hand to gently stroke the femmeling’s rounded red helm.   She purred happily as Galvatron patted her fondly, hugging her plush cat carefully and tightly.

            “Ah, then I shall not worry over it, my lord,” Cyclonus responded, nodding sagely.   “I shall summon those Constructicons right away and the human scientist may brief them on what he wishes to do in his survey,” he continued, bowing deeply once more and raised a servo to his audial as he glyphed Scavenger and Mixmaster to come to the embassy as soon as they could, and to possibly bring their Autobot apprentices with them.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Thanks for coming, sorry it was such an awful trek through the jungle,” Hot Rod laughed, holding out his arm for a firm clasp of a Cybertronian handshake greeting.  Deszaras smiled and clasped his arm against the smaller flame-colored mech’s.   “We’ve been working on clearing away the foliage and vines as best as we can—the Firecons have been _amazing_ at this, as long as we make sure they don’t set the whole jungle ablaze.”

            “It’s not a problem, Hot Rod…….we just came back from dropping a bunch of Cybertronians off on Chaar,” Deszaras responded.    “So this is Fortress Maximus?   He is definitely big.”

            “ _Hook, Bonecrusher!   Thanks for coming!_ ”   Hot Rod called, waving over to the two familiar Constructicons.   “Yep, this guy’s Fortress Maximus.   Cerebros has been trying to get him to talk about what injuries he may have, but even he’s not too sure……..he says he’s been here too long without moving.   Best thing to start with for you two would be to look at Cog—the former _‘pilot’_ as Max calls him,” the flame-colored mech said, nodding at the Constructicons.   “We’re still not certain what the function of a _‘pilot’_ is in relationship to Max, but he says he can’t take his primary mode without the _‘pilot’_.  Cerebros thinks that it may possibly have to do with some sort of _‘merging’_ —like a gestalt, maybe.”   As he spoke, Hot Rod led them through the dark corridors of the fortress-form Cybertronian.   “Where’s Star Saber and Deadlock?”   He asked, grinning up at Deszaras.

            “Remaining aboard the ship.   Saber’s been a bit of an emotional mess recently with the skirmishes we’ve had out on the frontier,” the captain of the _Thunder Arrow_ responded.   “He’s very much like you—he strives to save lives, not to take them.   And even when he fights, it’s to down and disable— _not_ to destroy.”   Deszaras ducked to make it through the doorway into the probable “ _engine room_ ”—or “ _closet_ ” as the Firecons had called it.   “And Deadlock’s not exactly a chatty people-person,” he chuckled.   “If you get him talking, he’s friendly enough—though _getting_ him to talk is like trying to replace his fuel pump.”

            Deszaras looked around, trying to fit as much into the corner and out of the way as he could.   The grey-and-black mech he deduced to be Cerebros—as the mech was speaking in an odd, old language to the fortress around them.   He noted the body on the floor and saw the odd similarity in design to Cerebros’, just with some additions to the frame.   Hook and Bonecrusher immediately knelt and began examining the long-dead body on the floor.

            “Hot Rod, on our way here we received a strange signal,” the older Decepticon warrior began as the smaller flame-colored mech moved to stand beside him in the corner.   “It wasn’t asking for assistance and it wasn’t warning us to stay away—it seemed more curious than anything, with an **_old_** dialect of Cybertronian.”

            “How old?”   Cerebros asked, turning around to look at the tall Decepticon commander.

            “ _Very old_ , almost what you’re speaking but with a bit more guttural words as opposed to the warbling,” Deszaras answered.   He held out a datapad and played a recording of the message.

            “It’s definitely Quintessonian era Cybertronian,” the Autobot soldier and linguist responded.   “It sounds like it’s merged a little bit with a native language of whatever planet they might likely be on.”

            “ _‘They’_?”   Hot Rod asked, very curiously.

            “Two signals there, so _at least_ two individuals,” Cerebros responded with a chuckle.   “And you’re right, they’re _curious_.   I think they heard Soundwave’s frequency broadcast and don’t know what it is.”

            “That means they’re _not_ warriors that were sent out to the frontier,” Deszaras murmured, folding his arms across his chest.

            “Do you think…….?   I mean……….. _maybe_ ………..they could be slave product?”  Hot Rod said, very softly.   “I know we’ve never run into any individuals in this modern era from the Quintessonian era, but our ancestors were created as slave product—so it stands to reason there are probably Cybertronians who are slaves out there, somewhere.   Twinferno said he knew one military hardware mech in a Decepticon unit some long time ago.”

            “They’d be _extremely old_ if they are, though,” Cerebros added.   “These signals _don’t_ sound that old—their pitch would be missing certain notes and keys.   Generally a Cybertronian’s vocal pitch, including notes and keys, changes every two million years or so.   They lose some of those notes and keys the older they become.”

            “ _Unless_ …………I mean………….it’s _theoretically possible_ since the designs were meant for it…………” Hot Rod began in a low, musing tone.   “What if Galvatron and I _aren’t_ the first ones to have sparklings?”

            Hook immediately looked up at Hot Rod.  “That would mean the slaves that bore these…….. _new Cybertronians_ …….were created **_before_** Vector Sigma took over the creation process and eliminated the separate systems and protocols,” he said, his voice light with definite curiosity.

            “I mean, look at it this way………….it’s a _one in a million possibility_ that it is, but if the planet these signals came from had purchased some of the Quintessons’ original slave models, both the military hardware and the consumer goods—and those two types of models figured out Spark-bonding was the way to ignite a newspark…………I mean, it _could_ actually happen.  It’s what the Quintessons had already designed, even though they didn’t have the Spark-bonding part of the equation!”   Hot Rod said, excitedly.   “Cerebros………..I know this is asking a _huge inference_ from that recording, but how old do you think the voices in these signals are?”   The flame-colored mech asked.

            “ _Mmmm_ ……..it’s difficult to tell within the first three to four million years, because their pitches have only changed once.  I can tell you that they are likely younger than four million, possibly younger than three million,” the Autobot soldier and linguist responded, cupping his chin thoughtfully.   “If I had to make a really specific guess…….I’d say they may be around two to three million—around their first vocal change.”

            “They’d know nothing of Autobots, Decepticons or the wars—probably nothing of Cybertron either,” Deszaras murmured.   “They probably wouldn’t even really understand _what they are_.”

            “But if they were able to project signals in response to Soundwave’s, this would mean that they’ve got some kind of independence too, they’re not _simply_ slaves or born into slavery.   Even if they are still slaves of a sort, it means…………their owners let them have their own independence in many ways, too,” Hot Rod mused.    Deep inside, he was excited………….. _someone else_ who had done the impossible— _who had sparklings!_    Sparklings that were **_fully grown_** …………if Hot Rod could meet them, he could learn what more he could expect from his own younglings!    _He wanted to know!_   

            But there was _so much_ to do, still!   There was trying to get Fortress Maximus online and functioning to full capacity…………and Galvatron might become annoyed if he didn’t get back to Chaar soon enough…………and what about Stormbreaker?   Was she missing her carrier at all?   Hot Rod knew _Novablaze_ was able to handle it—he’d really grown up a lot, emotionally, in the past several months.    Hopefully Galvatron was visiting the younglings often enough so that Stormbreaker wouldn’t miss Hot Rod quite so much! 

            “Do you still have Soundwave with you, Deszaras?”  Hot Rod asked, looking up at the taller, older mech.

            “Yes, after we came to answer your request for the medics……..we were going to go back out seeking more Cybertronians,” the old Decepticon warrior answered, smiling down at the flame-colored mech.

            “All right…………mind if I borrow your crew for a little bit?”  The former Autobot Leader asked.   “Cerebros, I’ll leave you here with the others while I go and check out this situation.   Soundwave should be able to figure out a language fast and translate it for us.”

            “ _Sure_.   I’ll see what I can get Fortress Maximus to explain more to me, for the medics’ benefit,” the grey-and-black mech said.

            “Deszaras, would you stay here and keep an eye on things here?”  The smaller flame-colored mech asked, grinning up at the Decepticon warrior.

            “ _Certainly_.  Take Saber with you onto the planet—he needs to get out and get some fresh air where he’s not going to go out and get in a fight,” Deszaras said, then he leaned down.   “He’s been frustrated enough he won’t frag with Deadlock or myself anymore and he’s our center—we need to get his fire back, all right?”  He whispered, just for Hot Rod to hear.

            “ _Got it_.   Some fresh air without combat could probably do us all some good in the end,” Hot Rod answered with a warm smile.

            Deszaras straightened up and placed a finger to his audial, sending a communique to Deadlock—explaining the situation.   His loyal, younger soldier simply agreed it could be good for Star Saber to get out in a more friendly environment soon.   By the time Hot Rod got to the _Thunder Arrow_ , Deadlock was on the ramp to greet him, along with Soundwave—the grey-and-white mech explained that Star Saber was off napping, as he’d done much too often of late.

            While Soundwave listened to the response signal and searched historical records to see how to interpret the foreign Cybertronian’s dialogue—he found a datapacket on the planet itself and was able to acquire the planet’s language.   Hot Rod sat in the co-pilot’s seat and took directions from Deadlock.   The young, flame-colored mech realized Deszaras was right—the mech wasn’t overly chatty, but he spoke easier with one once they got him talking.

            “Where are we going, Deadlock?   Where’s Des?”  Star Saber asked, wandering onto the bridge of the ship and looking around.   He wasn’t in his expansion armour, so he was in his standard Cybertronian-sized form.   “When did _you_ get here, Hot Rod?”   He asked, very confused.

            “This is what you get for sleeping so much, Saber—you completely miss that I’ve **_overthrown_** Des and we’re going rogue,” Deadlock responded, his voice droll, but a smile spread across his faceplate.

            “We’re going to investigate a signal you guys got on the way to meet me on Dorn,” Hot Rod responded, standing up from the seat and pushing Star Saber into it.   “Captain Deszaras is staying behind on Dorn to keep an eye on things and Sixshot is wandering around this ship—as Galvatron would kill us both for evading my bodyguard.”

            “ _I see_.  Does Galvatron know you’ve flitted away from Dorn and the titan class mech?”  The blue-and-red mech asked, curiously, settling down comfortably in the familiar chair.

            “I’ve promised a marathon frag session when I get home to appease him, but he’s okay with it,” the flame-colored mech responded, leaning over the back of the chair and watching Star Saber check coordinates and console readings like a pro.   “It seems he was able to handle a sparkling crisis all on his own—I’m proud of my moody Emperor.”

            Deadlock chuckled.   “Picturing that scary mech cooing at a sparkling warms my tepid old Spark,” the Decepticon warrior laughed softly.   “ _Saber_ , Des says that you’re going to go out with Hot Rod to look for the two signals.   If you go to the planet, Sixshot can stay here on board the _Thunder Arrow_ and we can keep an eye out for any danger that might be incoming—though I doubt we’ll find any.   Just from what Soundwave fed to my console—this planet guards itself tighter than any planet in the entire Galactic Alliance.”   The grey-and-white mech half-turned and looked at Hot Rod, curiously.   “Speaking of which— _you_ need to try and contact the planet itself and see if we can be cleared to land.   They’ve got a planetary shield up and we can’t get through that,” he said, firmly, pointing at Hot Rod.

            “Soundwave, can you send a request for contact to the planet?   Explain that we’re here to speak to some…………. _robotic servants_ they may have on the planet?”  Hot Rod asked, looking at the Decepticons’ Communications Officer.   “Since if the theory’s correct and they’re sparklings born to some of the slave brands, they won’t understand the term _‘Transformer’_ or _‘Cybertronian’_ ……….but they may likely still be slaves of some sort, right?”   He mused, curiously.

            “That’s true,” Star Saber responded.   “Do you think they are still slaves?  Born into slavery?”

            “I think it’s a completely viable assumption.   The slave brands were _meant_ to produce offspring, if a few of them figured out Spark-bonding was the ignition needed for the protocols and programs to assume their proper function…………it **_has_** to be the logical conclusion,” the young, flame-colored mech said, softly.   “Though it will be strange that these _‘sparklings’_ are likely far older than I am…………”

            “I have a response from the surface, Prime,” Soundwave responded, his deep and echoing voice warm and gentle.   “They’ve given us vector coordinates for a landing and a party will meet ours at the landing platform.”

            “Can you get _any_ emotional status from their message?”   Deadlock asked, curiously, as the coordinates were fed into his piloting station.

            “It seems _curious_ , more than anything,” Soundwave responded.   “I might assume they do not get many visitors or much interest in their world, because of the shielding.   They may wonder what piqued our interest—perhaps they are unaware the Cybertronian-descended may have responded to my original outgoing message?”

            “Super high technology and they’re still so backwater to the universe?   It’s _definitely_ puzzling,” Deadlock murmured, watching for the shield to drop in the area where he was told to pilot through it.   “I probably don’t need to say it, but I do have plenty of paranoia of strangers to share with everyone—as strangers can become enemies too easily—be careful in your interactions down there.”

            “ _Yep_ ,” Hot Rod said, nodding firmly.  “C’mon Star Saber, Soundwave………..let’s go meet some adult sparklings.”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “ _Gaihawk!   Get that defense up!_ ”   Leozak snarled, sweeping his sword at his fellow elite unit soldier.   “ _Hellbat!   Stop being so **fragging lazy**!_”   He growled, aiming his feline-shaped assist mech at the blue-and-grey mech, who was sitting in the corner of the training room playing a game on a datapad with Jaruga.

            “What’s got _you_ so pissy?”  Hellbat snapped, swatting at the assist mech biting his forearm.   “ ** _Slag it_** …………why are you acting _so bossy_ lately, Leozak?!”   He growled, hopping to his feet as the feline assist mech let go of him.

            Leozak frowned.   _Why_ didn’t they understand?    If they knew that their lives were nothing to Starscream and Raj-ur-Malekk………….and could easily be taken should they fail………….would they _still_ act so selfish and lazy like this???   The _only one_ trying to be cooperative in training was Hellbison and he was really kind of dumb, so he responded to orders, regardless of who gave them—and if the orders involved fighting, he responded _very enthusiastically_.

            The feline assist mech stalked back up to Leozak and he held down his blade—the assist mech reshaped itself around his sword and a surge of power rippled through it.   He’d discovered his assist mech could power up weapons—both his sword and his plasma rifle—and started training to enhance _this_ particular skill.   He realized the others’ assist mechs could _surely_ do the same—be more than extra chest armour—and was trying to show them **_how to achieve this_**.

            High above the training room, Starscream looked down into it and watched Leozak try to train the others of the elite unit with enthusiasm and determination.   He frowned, _deeply_.   His Quintesson partner advised _against_ destroying the elite unit, but Leozak’s new independence and determination worried him.   If their gestalt rebelled against them—it would be a _severe blow to their forces_.   Could Starscream risk Leozak rebelling and taking the others with him?

            The former Decepticon’s Second-in-Command had made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime—the one before the one he was living now and………he’d made a couple of mistakes already in this new life.   He _couldn’t_ afford to keep stumbling about in these matters.   Galvatron was _powerful_ and while Raj-ur-Malekk had given **_him_** a pretty powerful frame, Starscream knew he was still _no match_ for Galavtron, **_ever_**.   If they entered combat unprepared for Galvatron’s true power and fury, they’d lose so fast and Starscream might likely be a program ghost wandering aimlessly again.   He’d be stuck wandering in a non-existence, with no chance for an afterlife in the Afterspark or the Pit.

            He was **_not_** going back to that, _not ever again_.

            They needed another gestalt, _just in case_.   But the Quintesson biologist made sure to impress the fact that it would be far too expensive to create more Transformers from scratch—the crystals needed for Spark-ignition for the elite unit alone had made a serious dent in Raj-ur-Malekk’s long standing, _massive_ , multiple bank accounts.   Not to mention the massive crystal needed for Scorponok’s own Spark-ignition.   And while this Quintesson was _not_ as mercenary or as selfish with money as the others of his species were, he did make a clear statement that he would like to still keep a good set of funds in his bank accounts—and it would be best if Starscream didn’t push his luck into begging for his partner to create _another one_ from scratch.

            Therefore, he was going to have to find an _already existing team_ and see if his Quintesson partner would help him reformat their frames into a gestalt.   The Constructicons had been reformatted into becoming a gestalt and Starscream had done that with the new bodies he’d created for the Combaticons’ Sparks.   So, he knew it _wouldn’t_ be expensive to reformat existing mechs (or femmes) into such a team—he merely had to find **_the right team_** and get them to acquiesce to the procedure.   Surely, within all the Decepticons he’d found out on the frontier, there _had_ to be a team here somewhere for him to use.

            Starscream took a last look into the training room and saw Killbison and Leozak teaming up to attack Hellbat and Jaruga—while Drillhorn and Gaihawk sparred with each other.   Leozak was becoming a good— _nay, a **great**_ —team leader.   It would truly be a shame if they all rebelled, a real shame.   He walked away and drew out his work datapad………he scanned the names of all the Decepticons who’d joined his Destron army.   As well as the few Autobots who had joined him.

            “ _Hunh_ ,” Starscream chuckled, a grin spreading across his faceplate as he walked into the large lab he shared with his Quintesson partner.

            “ _What?_    What is it you are suddenly _so amused_ about?”  Raj-ur-Malekk said sharply, eyes focused only on his experiment.  He waved a tentacle absently in Starscream’s direction to acknowledge the Destron commander’s presence.

            “First off, before I propose _this_ to you—how hard was it to create that synthetic shell you made for me?”   Starscream asked, plopping down into his comfortable task chair and leaned back, propping his pedes on the corner of his desk.

            “Not so difficult really—the materials are easily acquired and relatively inexpensive,” the Quintesson biologist answered, chuckling.   “ _What?_    You’d like to do this to a few of your soldiers, too?   You, yourself, have yet to even utilize the shell as well as the camouflage programs.”

            “I’m saving it for the Athenia infiltration, you _know_ that,” the red-and-white mech laughed, warmly.   “I simply want to do **_this_** to spread destruction and terror amongst some of the Galactic Alliance worlds.   However, I want them to be more than merely _Pretenders_ —I’ve coined that term now, by the way, use it if you’d like—I want them to become _our new gestalt_.”

            “I already told you I haven’t the funds to create any more new soldiers for you, Starscream,” the Quintesson biologist snapped, slapping both tentacles down onto the counter before him.

            This was the first time Starscream heard him close to being so furiously angry.   Rawjaw, with his limited expanse of words, had even warned Starscream against making the Quintesson angry in any way—he only had two masks and the Mask of Rage was _very unpleasant_ to deal with.

            “Don’t worry, I’m **_not_** going to ask you for that,” Starscream responded in a soothing voice.  He got up and walked over to his partner.   He leaned over the shorter being and leaned down to whisper as close to audial sensors as he could, from what he understood of the Quintesson’s biological makeup.   “I’ve already found six very terrifying individuals………..dumb as bricks, but strong as any monster you’ve ever encountered.   And we’re not just going to make them Pretenders………..they are going to be our new gestalt—I’ll show you how to adapt an existing mech team into a gestalt.   And you’ll love the _ferocity_ of these monsters.”

            “Do the shells need to adapt to the combined form, too?   Because _that_ may be too difficult,” Raj-ur-Malekk chuckled, wryly, looking down at the datapad Starscream set down in front of him and glanced at the names.

            “No, just their beast forms need shells—I want them purely to **_terrorize_** others, they already seem to be good at it in their normal beast forms,” Starscream chuckled, shoving himself away and then turned about to lean against the counter.

            “ _Ah, a true test of artistic skills!_    Monster shells……..I _already_ like this,” Raj-ur-Malekk laughed, swiping on the screen to look at the datafiles of the six individual Decepticons that were now part of the Destron army.    “I’ll need their medical data, as well—have Wind Sheer give them extremely thorough medical exams and get me the details.   Then you and I will see how we can adapt them into a gestalt.   And once we have all that done—finally, we can create shells of beasts to give any being nightmares.”

            Starscream grinned to see his partner just as excited about this new venture as he was—that was one thing they had in common, their desire as scientists to experiment and create things.   It’s the one reason they were here now, working together, to uproot the very stability of the universe—and once the chaos had all settled, there would be a new dominion over all.   It would all be at the whim of Starscream and his partner would have unlimited research subjects from now until the end of time.

            It might take a year, it might take a century……….it might even take a millennia…………but they’d get there _eventually_.  Starscream would finally have everything the Robo-Smasher made him believe he ever wanted………….. _dominion and destruction over all_.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The planet of Jiyuuishi was very strange and very beautiful.   There were gorgeously landscaped areas and shining, perfectly artistic buildings.   It was a surreal melding of nature and high-technology, with an artistic style of ancient cultures.   The people, as well, were very strange—organic creatures with a basic body structure (the interior and _most_ of the exterior) like Earth humans, except that their bones and bodies were longer, making them taller.   Most of the adults were, at a minimum, ten feet tall.  Their faces were also long and narrow, with narrow eyes that slanted up at the outward edges.   Still shorter than most Cybertronians, except for minibots, but taller than many organics that Hot Rod knew.

            Hot Rod thought they looked rather similar to some of the Earthlings’ fantasy media race called “ _Elves_ ”—they even had long ears that tapered to a point, just like the drawings of elves.   But like the many myriad races of Earth humans, their skin varied in shades—their hair and eyes also varied in colors.   Most of them, males and females, had long hair and wound it up in strange and intricate hair styles.

            Soundwave had learned their language quick and served as a translator for them, when they met with some kind of government leader type of person.   The city where they had been directed to was called “ _Taizai_ ” and the person who met them was addressed with a term that Soundwave translated as “ _governor_ ”.   This governor’s name was Sei no Hokou and he had a secretary with him, whose name was Kiku no Eki.   There were a couple of bodyguards who looked to be some form of android, but not of any style of a Cybertronian design—they had a form that much more resembled the natives than the slave brands of the Quintessons would.

            “You are looking for ones who look like you?”  Sei no Hokou asked, his tone very curious—and the words were quickly translated by Soundwave.  They were walking through a beautiful garden, on a colorfully-tiled path.

            “ _Yes_.  Our ancestors were created by the Quintessons, who created our kind as slaves—we think some of the original slave product may have been sold to your ancestors of this planet,” Hot Rod said, then he patiently waited for Soundwave to translate his words.

            Star Saber watched the secretary very carefully as she leaned over towards the governor and whispered something to him.   He stood up straight and nodded.   Usually worlds like this—that kept themselves hidden from all others—had vast and terrible secrets.   And while the old Autobot warrior appreciated Deszaras telling him, via Deadlock, to get out and get some fresh air—he hoped this _wasn’t_ going to become a disaster.

            “My secretary notified me that there may possibly be ones like you who remain,” Sei no Hokou began, turning to the group of three Cybertronians.   “I recall there used to be the ones you call _‘slave product’_ here on this world and those that owned them tried very hard to maintain their upkeep throughout the generations, but as our technology progressed they were unable to keep them going any further through time.”

            The governor paused as he let Soundwave translate those words for Hot Rod and Star Saber.   Then he continued his story of how the slave product had died out and……….

            “But there was _one family_ , whose slave product had produced offspring after many generations,” he began, looking up into the blue sky and giving a deep sigh.   “The _Shison_ family.   They treasured their slave product and allowed them to mate.   They produced four offspring, however we are only aware that two have survived until today.   Hana no Shison is getting older, with no children or grandchildren—to her, those two are like her children.”

            Soundwave translated that and Hot Rod’s Spark spun wildly, flailing against its spark-casing within his chest.   **_Four!_**     Some of the military hardware and consumer goods Cybertronians had produced four sparklings!   But only two survived?   Why did two of the sparklings die?   Were they killed or………..?

            Star Saber noticed the intensity in Hot Rod’s field and put a bracing servo in the center of his back to calm him down, also using his field to do so.   “Is there a chance we could meet with this Hana no Shison?”  The Autobot swordsmech asked, curiously, looking to Soundwave to translate it for him.

            Sei no Hokou spoke with his secretary for several moments and then she walked off quickly.   “My secretary is going to make a call over to the Shison estate to see if Hana no Shison is up to having visitors,” he responded with a gentle nod.   “Hot Rod—you seemed a bit disturbed when I mentioned the offspring, is there a reason why?”   He asked and then let Soundwave translate for him.

            “ _Oh, um_ …………I have two sparklings of my own.   I was just worried to hear that two did not survive,” Hot Rod said, reaching a servo up to rub the back of his neck.

            Soundwave translated it and Sei no Hokou chuckled softly.

            “But doesn’t it happen, every so often—offspring simply don’t survive?”   The governor responded with a little shrug.

            “Not to our kind—in fact, Hot Rod was the _first one_ in our recorded history to have sparklings,”   Star Saber said, firmly.

            After it was translated, Sei no Hokou looked very surprised.   Then he folded his arms across his chest and gazed at the ground before him.   Even as he told the story, from what he knew of history of those strange robotic slaves………it was only apparently the two that had belonged to the Shison family that had ever produced offspring.   He had always assumed it was because of a kindness of the family—to allow their slaves to mate.   But if it were a rare, practically unheard of occurrence, then maybe it was more common for there **_not_** to be any offspring whatsoever for this robotic species?

            It didn’t take long for Kiku no Eki to return.   She said that Hana no Shison would be delighted to have visitors—she did not have many guests in recent years and would be pleased to have company.   So, a guide showed Hot Rod and the others to the Shison estate at the edge of the city of Taizai.   The estate was very beautiful, the large habitation building was built very tall—as if for a Cybertronian—and the ornate carvings and colorings were resplendent.  Before they made it to the door, they were stopped only halfway to the door on the stone-inlaid path by a mech as tall as Star Saber (in his armour) brandishing a long blade.

            “ _Halt!   State your business!_ ”  The blue-and-yellow mech grunted in a passable dialect of very old Cybertronian.

            “My name is Hot Rod—my friends are Star Saber and Soundwave,” the young, flame-colored mech greeted, smiling up at the large mech, using as old a dialect of Cybertronian as he could.   “We received some signals in response to one Soundwave sent out, from this planet, a short time ago and wanted to meet the individuals who responded to it.   The governor of this city allowed us to come here and called ahead.”

            The large mech gave a grunt and gazed sharply at Star Saber, who had tensed up and had started reaching for his own sword that was sheathed at his back.  “I am _Daichizuchou_ , guardian of the Shison Household,” he said, firmly, reaching over his shoulder to sheathe his massive sword.  “Please follow me, but be warned—I _shall not hesitate_ to cut you down if you should prove a threat to my mistress or the household!”   He growled, spinning on a pede and leading them to the door of the estate.

            Hot Rod was in awe at the fierce and handsome mech—so _this_ was one of the sparklings?   An adult sparkling?   If this was what Novablaze had to look forward to one day when he grew into his final form………….Hot Rod could excitedly anticipate something like that!

            “Hey, Daichizuchou…………how old are you?   You seem a bit older than me, I’m only about thirty years old—not quite there yet, but I’m getting close,” Hot Rod said, cheerfully, trying to make conversation and learn about the natural born Cybertronian.

            “I have not been that age in a very long time.   I am almost three million years old,” he responded, his deep voice serious.

            Cerebros had been nearly spot-on with his guess!

            “Kaze-chan, where is the mistress?”  The large blue-and-yellow mech asked as he entered the large foyer and saw a tall and beautiful femme.

            She had a very slender and curved frame, a little bit different than most Cybertronian femmes, with some softly-glowing biolighting on some areas of her frame—and that was not so different than Hot Rod’s own sparklings, who had biolighting on their frames.   The red-and-black femme was wearing some kind of silken outfit that was pink with a cherry blossom pattern—which was like a two-piece shirt-top cut high beneath the chestplating and had very long, bell-like sleeves.  It had to be in two-pieces because of her very distinct wings at her back, red-and-black with circular fans set into them.   There was also a short silken skirt of some kind draped around her hips and a veil obscured her faceplating.

            “The mistress is in the tearoom, awaiting her guests,” the femme said, her voice melodious and cheerful.   “Please tell me you did not attack the guests, Dai-chan!”   She admonished, reaching up to swat the taller mech’s shoulder.

            “ _My apologies_ ,” the blue-and-yellow mech mumbled, ducking his head with embarrassment.

            “Greetings, honored guests,” the red-and-black femme said, pressing her servos together and bowing deeply before Hot Rod and speaking a more clearer dialect of Cybertronian.  “My name is _Kazenoha_.   Welcome to the Shison estate.   I shall take you now to the tearoom where my mistress, _Hana no Shison_ , awaits your company.”

            Hot Rod smiled warmly at them both.   So, the femme was the _other_ living sparkling, she was very elegant and beautiful—one day, Stormbreaker could probably look just as beautiful as her.    “I appreciate that you can give our translator a little bit of a break.   It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kazenoha,” the flame-colored mech responded, ducking his shoulders politely in a bow at her.

            The three Cybertronians followed her to the tearoom, while Daichizuchou stood guard determinedly at the estate doors.   Inside at the center of the room, in a comfortable wheeled chair that was hidden beneath a large, rippling kimono and loose, flowing hair, was the oldest native of this world that Hot Rod and the others had seen yet.   The natives had all looked thin to begin with, but this elderly woman looked thin and like she was merely sticks covered in skin.   The governor had told them that Hana no Shison was extremely old and had no offspring, so the two slave brand offspring were the only ones she had to take care of her.

            After introducing them to her mistress and introducing her mistress to them, Kazenoha poured tea for her mistress and then sat down near the wheeled chair in a familiar pose to Hot Rod— _seiza_ , the folded legs beneath the body sitting pose.   He’d been to Japan and had learned these sorts of customs—it seemed that some of the society of Jiyuuishi was not so different.   Hot Rod turned to Star Saber and Soundwave and explained the customary sitting pose and then he settled down in _seiza_ himself, with the other two mechs sitting in the same pose slightly behind him.

            “It is an honor to meet you,” the elderly woman said in very shaky galactic standard.

            “You know galactic standard, my lady?”  Hot Rod asked, using that familiar language.

            “My family has often tried to convince the ruling council to join the galactic alliance,” Hana no Shison responded, smiling over at Hot Rod.   “What brings you to Jiyuuishi, Hot Rod?”   She asked, curiously.

            “Our kind— _Cybertronians_ ………..we had been created as a slave brand by a race called the Quintessons.   We rose up against them, the military hardware line and the consumer goods line, and lived in peace for a small bit before the two lines became more divided and we were at war,” Hot Rod said in the briefest way he could describe millions of years of history.   “We were at war for millions of years, the military hardware line is now called the _‘Decepticons’_ and the consumer goods line is now called the _‘Autobots’_ —as shown by the different brands we wear,” he added, pointing at his symbol and then at Soundwave’s.   “But when I became the Autobot Leader for the short time I was in that position, I forged a set of ceasefire accords with the Decepticon Leader, Galvatron………I fell in love with him and he’s my lover and the sire of my own sparklings.   We are pretty much at peace with one another now, however there’s a _former Decepticon_ out there— ** _Starscream_**.   He’s formed an army of his own, the Destrons he calls them, and he has been seeking our kind from the frontier………the ones who have not yet come home from the war or are aware that we are finally at a sort of peace—building an army for his new war.   I chose a mission to try and find the lost out on the frontier, to get to them before Starscream can convince them to convert—or kill them when they won’t join his cause.”

            “My partners, Deszaras and Deadlock, and I have joined Hot Rod’s quest to do this—we’ve been assisting him because he has many other duties to keep working on, plus a sparkling that is barely a year old right now,” Star Saber said, nodding at the older woman.  “Soundwave is an expert linguist and communications expert, we’ve been relying on him to try all the old frequencies to contact the ones left out there.”

            “ _Ah!_    Then it was your signal that Kaze-chan and Dai-chan heard and were curious about,” Hana no Shison chuckled, warmly.   “They recognized the language as something similar to what their parents spoke, but were surprised to hear it come from off of our world.”

            “So, we came to investigate and to ask if they wanted to come home.   But, as we’ve learned, they _aren’t_ natives of Cybertron who were sent out to war—they were _born here_ on Jiyuuishi,” Hot Rod said, raising a hand and placing it over his chest, trying to curb his sudden anxiety.  “We aren’t here to take them away—we were just as curious about them.   Because…………we all thought **_I_** was the only one in our entire history to be able to bear sparklings to another Cybertronian.   It has _never_ been documented in our records and even some Quintessons have said such an experiment was a total failure.   My sparklings are both very little yet and I wanted to kind of see what…………I might be able to expect………..by meeting these _adult sparklings_.”

            “You have very _young_ children?   But you seem so very young yourself!”  The elderly woman laughed warmly.

            “I _am_ young, just around thirty years.   It’s really young, at least for _our kind_.   For Cybertronians, the Quintessons had made a high A.I. computer called _‘Vector Sigma’_ and a forging factory—ever since the Quintessons stopped building slave brand product, Vector Sigma has been creating new Cybertronians, _they_ are created as adults………..so, sparklings happen to be a very new concept for us,” the flame-colored mech murmured, pulling a datapad from his forearm’s subspace pocket and booting it up to his photos of his children—and a few of them had Galvatron in them as well.   He handed out the datapad, which Kazenoha leaned over to take and hand up to her mistress.    “The purple mech, who looks very much like his sire, Galvatron—his name is Novablaze.   He’s just about seven years old now.   The one-year-old little femme is Stormbreaker, she loves her plush kitty and is only starting to speak some words—mostly Cybertronian.”

            Kazenoha helped her mistress swipe through the screens showing the daily lives of the two sparklings.   They spoke to each other using the native language of Jiyuuishi, chuckling and smiling at many of the photos.   After looking at the photos, Kazenoha handed the datapad back to Hot Rod, who returned it to his subspace pocket.

            “Looking at two such wonderful adults as Kazenoha and Daichizuchou, it gives me a lot to look forward to from my own sparklings.   And while I have so many questions I would _love_ to ask them about their childhood and growing up—I will not press them to give me any answers,” Hot Rod said, his voice very soft and shy.

            “Young Hot Rod—I should like to speak with you, **_alone_** , for a few moments.   Kaze-chan, will you take Star Saber and Soundwave out to the gardens and show them around?”  Hana no Shison said, gazing down at the elegant femme beside her.   “This young one has a very kind heart, I know I have nothing to fear from him—so, you need not worry my little wind-knife.”

            “Yes, mistress,” Kazenoha responded, rising to her pedes and bowing towards the guests as Star Saber and Soundwave rose to their pedes as well.   She led them out of the tearoom and politely slid the doors shut.

            “Hot Rod, I believe it is _very fortuitous_ that you have come to Jiyuuishi now,” Hana no Shison said softly.   “I am very old and have no issue to my family’s long-lived name.   Kaze-chan and Dai-chan are my only family and all they have ever known have been the family of Shison.   When I am gone, I do not know what they would do.   There are no others of _their kind_ here on Jiyuuishi.   And I am very close to the end of my life,” she said, her old voice sounding very firm and determined right now.   “I do not want my little wind-knife and my strong great-atlas to be alone on a planet that has moved beyond caring for beings like them.   I want _you_ to take them with you when you leave Jiyuuishi.”

            “I would very much like to—I know that they would be well-received on Chaar or Cybertron by others of our kind,” the young, flame-colored mech murmured.   “But I don’t think they would want to leave your side.”

            “It is a talk they have not wanted to hear, but they must come to understand it,” the old woman responded, the tone in her voice very determined.   “I could not bear them being alone and destitute for whatever their long lives may still contain.  I will speak to them again and explain this situation.   I have called for my family’s dispensor and the estate will be taken under the care of the city.   Kaze-chan has done everything to care for me, but it would be best to enter a medical care facility for the short time that remains of my life.”

            Hot Rod did not know what a “ _dispensor_ ” was—it was a strange term that did not translate into galactic standard well, but he supposed it may be like a **_lawyer_**.   When he was Rodimus Prime and on Earth, he had a lawyer for the Autobots on retainer, so he understood that lawyers could do many, many things.   And he knew that on Earth, one of the many things they could do was to manage an estate at its final end.  

            And he understood that this strong, elderly woman was failing in health—but had been afraid to enter medical care and to leave the mech and the femme alone on the estate.   It would still have to be _their choice_ , but………..he hoped that Kazenoha and Daichizuchou would choose to come with them when they left Jiyuuishi.   He felt the two would probably be crushed by Hana no Shison’s death and would have no idea what to do with their lives after that.   And Hot Rod did not want them to feel they should take their own lives—and end everything with the death of the family they had served for so long.   Since it was clear there were no slave brand left on this planet—they had no fellows to get together with…………they would have nowhere to go when their mistress died.

            Hot Rod hoped they would be able to convince the two adult sparklings to come along with his group.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            **[I’m not sure how it will go, my Emperor, but………]** Hot Rod said, his optics sliding away from the screen and staring at the console.   Galvatron noted the clenched servo at his little Prime’s chest and recognized a sign of his small lover’s great compassion for all causing him pain and worry.   **[As soon as I’m done here, I’ll be going back to Dorn and checking on how things are going with Max and the others.]**    Hot Rod had looked briefly at the screen and smiled, before his gaze fell again.

            “Prime.   I cannot cup your chin and keep your optics up when we are apart like this.   So, _look directly at the screen_ so I know you are looking at me,” the Decepticon Leader said in his most commanding of tones.   Hot Rod’s optics focused on the camera eye of the screen.  “ _Now_ , have you yet come upon any ideas to revitalize this titan or not?”

            **[Not yet.   We understand he is underfueled and he needs this _‘pilot’_ , but we don’t really know where to go from there,]** the flame-colored mech said with a sigh.

            “Then you must call Optimus Prime,” Galvatron snapped, a bit annoyed he had to say that mech’s name.   “Ask him to bring Energon enough for a titan and to borrow the Matrix of Leadership.   You have _always_ been able to find answers with the Matrix—you must seek answers within it now.”

            **[Galvatron, the Matrix isn’t just a weapon that can be traded between soldiers!   I’m not the chosen one anymore, it may not feel so enthusiastic about answering my questions, either!]**    Hot Rod groaned, facepalming himself.   **[But you’re probably right about the Energon.   The Autobots would have enough Energon to fuel a titan mech and it’s clear that Max can’t completely refuel and recharge on solar and geothermal sources.]**

            “You are _my_ chosen one and the Matrix belongs _only to you_ ,” Galvatron growled, folding his arms crossly over his chest.   “You should not have had to give it away as you did.   _Your sacrifice was not appreciated for what it was!_ ”   He snapped, sharply.

            Hot Rod shook his head on the screen and kept his palm firmly over his faceplate, mumbling to himself.

            “ ** _Prrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeee!!!_** ”   Galvatron growled fiercely, aiming his nova cannon at the screen.

            **[All right!   I’ll try!   But I can’t make any guarantees on that front!]**   Hot Rod sighed, planting his servos on his hips.   **[Hey, how are our little brats?]**    He asked, smiling at his lover’s image on the screen before him.

“My Stormbreaker has managed to treat her treasure carefully and has been very protective of it since the fleshling doctor fixed it,” the Decepticon Leader chuckled, planting a servo on his hip and motioned with the other one as he spoke.   “The fleshling doctor has been very excited with his findings, but they still appear to only be rocks to me.   Novablaze has been spending time with the fleshlings, because he thinks it may be important, whatever they may find—it is fine with me, because then it means I do not need to leave Cyclonus with them.   Novablaze has become a very good assistant to Cyclonus and learns his lessons well, so it is good to encourage him to do these things.   He has great enthusiasm for these things, which may make him better than I as the Emperor of the Decepticons one day—should I someday never be around.”

**[You’re such a great sire, Galvatron!]**   Hot Rod said, warmly.   **[Before we meet back with Hana no Shison and the two Cybertronian descendants, I’ll see if I can talk to Optimus about what you said.   I’ll try to get back to Chaar as soon as I can, but it looks like I may be gone a little longer.   I hope Storm hasn’t forgotten about me by the time I get back.]**

“I doubt that.   She still asks for _‘cari’_ or _‘cawah’_ as she babbles it, every once in a while, but accepts that it will be a bit longer before you come back,” Galvatron chuckled, grinning at his little lover’s image.   “I think she has learned that you are a very important person to others and not just her—so, you do many things that sometimes require you to be absent.”

            **[I’m certain that Novablaze probably said something like that to her.   He’d remember all the time I was Autobot Leader and stuff,]** the flame-colored mech answered, chuckling fondly.   **[She listens to everything Novablaze tells her—even if she doesn’t get it all.]**    Then Hot Rod made a motion of rubbing the back of his neck and looked back up at the screen.   **[Galvatron.   I have a bad feeling about something.   I’m not sure what about or where or who……..no, scratch that, the ‘who’ is probably Starscream………..but I just have this really bad feeling something’s going to happen soon.   Um.   Be careful, okay?   I know you’ve all been ‘we can handle anything’ there on Chaar, but………..I dunno.   Maybe not on Chaar, but be careful anyways.]**

            “You just spoke in a very wobbly circle all around me and I have no idea what you are getting at.   But I shall endeavor to take care, as you wish, my little Prime,” Galvatron chuckled, softly.   After they had signed off, Galvatron strode out of the communications room in the palace and went directly to the habitation district, by himself, to walk around.

            He’d started doing that ever since the incident of the graffiti and Flamewar.   The Decepticons had been a little nervous when they’d started sensing Galvatron’s tightly-held-but-still-way-powerful EM field around their living area, but now they were used to it.   They’d politely greet their leader as he walked through the streets with Cyclonus a few paces behind him.  Galvatron went to the Combaticons’ resident assistance and security offices.

            “ _My lord!_ ”  Blast Off said, sharply, shooting to his pedes and saluting as a datapad clattered to his desk.

            “At ease, soldier,” Galvatron responded, nodding at the Combaticon politely.   “How are things in the habitation community?”   He inquired, standing in a relaxed posture, one servo on a hip so he could motion while talking with the other.

            “They are doing well, my lord.   With Flamewar gone the graffiti has disappeared entirely, meaning we probably _won’t_ find the artist now,” Blast Off reported, relaxing and gazing down at his datapad.   He hit the pause button on his game so the sounds wouldn’t annoy Galvatron.   “The community enhancement projects have been a benefit—it gives the Decepticons something to do and they enjoy being useful and active.   Jobs opened up by the building of the entertainment district and the even more potential of ongoing jobs after this have really relaxed the community.   When is the Prime scheduled to return?   Onslaught had a few questions to ask of him, for the entertainment district.”

            “He will still be gone for some time yet, it is undetermined.   Does what is needed must be attended to immediately?  I will endeavor to take over for my Prime, if I must, in this case.   I do have Cyclonus to explain things to me,” Galvatron asked, his tone lightly curious.

            “I think it should be alright as it is for now, my lord.   There’s still plenty of time,” the Combaticon responded, cheerfully.

            Galvatron nodded and smiled.   He very much appreciated that the Decepticons made use of Hot Rod’s knowledge and skills—because he knew it made the flame-colored mech feel very useful.   And Hot Rod liked to be needed by others.   Almost a decade ago, Galvatron would never have believed things would come to this particular point.   He would’ve rebelled at the word “ _peace_ ” being spoken, even!   But as time progressed, as his Prime showed him a way towards peace and to keep being who he truly was—a lord and leader of a military unit and a growing empire at his servos.   He certainly would _never_ have chosen an Autobot as anything more than a **_frag toy_** , but _this Autobot_ had such brilliant potential that he still had not grasped yet.

            **_That made Hot Rod a treasure to him._**    A treasure that had no other comparison in the universe.  He was no mere Autobot, no mere mech, even!   He was something that still needed to find his place in the universe—and when he did, Galvatron’s empire would have the most precious things in the universe living within it.   And Chaar would be the envy of all.

            _His Prime and his spawn would make Chaar a truly glorious place, simply by **existing** upon it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's getting longer--I haven't even gotten to the wedding or the entertainment district opening. But I hope you will still continue reading the story until it's end. 
> 
> Thank you, all. *bows*


	5. The History of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A startling revelation and and some wild make-up sex, because why not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally hit the 50,000 word count mark in a single work of stuff posted here on this site. Thanks to all who read and support this series. At this rate, "Burn Brightly" may wind up at the 100,000+ mark by the time it concludes! XD
> 
> An homage and a call-back to my first GalvaRod 'fic ("You Are Not Alone") exists in this work.

_ Chapter Five:   The History of Fate  _

 

 

            “Thank you for meeting with us again, Hana no Shison,” Hot Rod said, kindly, kneeling in seiza as Soundwave and Sixshot knelt beside him in the same position.   “Star Saber was feeling a bit tired, so he went back to our ship for some rest.   This is my friend………..and bodyguard……… _Sixshot_.   My lover seems to feel I get into too much trouble on my own and insists I have a bodyguard when I leave home from now on.”

            “It is an honor to meet you, Sixshot,” the old woman said, smiling at the Decepticon warrior.

            “And you, my lady,” the teal-and-white mech responded with a warm chuckle.

            “Dai-chan, Kaze-chan and I have spoken about many matters.   I have made it clear to them about my failing health and they understand the situation—as saddened as they are by it,” Hana no Shison responded.

            Kazenoha looked down at her knees, a tremor rippling through her tightly-held field.   Daichizuchou grumbled very softly, his servos clenching into fists upon his knee-joints.

            “They do not know much about their own kind, so I hope that you will be able to teach them about your kind’s history and everything, so that they may find their own way amongst you,” the old woman continued softly.   “I cannot help that my species does not live as long as yours, nor that I have had no children to keep this home and lineage going for these two children.”

            “All life is fragile, regardless of how long you live or not,” Hot Rod responded.   “Take it from someone who had only wanted to end their life until Galvatron came along into it.   Galvatron _and_ the human boy I helped to raise—the two of them helped me see that to live life as brightly as you can while you’re living is well-worth all the pain you may suffer to get to it.”   Then the young, flame-colored mech looked at Kazenoha and Daichizuchou—smiling warmly at them both.   “I know neither of you understand Autobots or Decepticons, so you can’t yet decide whether Chaar or Cybertron would be right for you—but until you do, please stay at _my_ embassy on Chaar while I and my friends teach you about the history of our race and stuff, okay?”

            “I understand,” Daichizuchou responded, nodding his head gently, his red optics glowing somberly.

            “I hope we will not be a burden on you,” Kazenoha whispered, keeping her head ducked down.

            “I have a few other tasks I have to attend to before I return to Chaar—would you want to come with me or would you want to go directly to Chaar?   My staff is very good and they’d help you feel at home…………?”  Hot Rod asked, still keeping a warm smile on his faceplate as he spoke to the innocent mech and femme who were millennia older than he was.

            “I should like to jump in all the way—as the saying goes,” Daichizuchou responded, looking over at Hot Rod and smiled at the younger mech.   “So, I shall accompany you.”

            “I’ll go wherever Dai-chan goes,” Kazenoha responded, finally lifting her blue glass-covered optics to meet Hot Rod’s.

            “Please ask me any questions you have—I’ve been trying hard to help the universe, _the Galactic Alliance_ , understand our species,” the flame-colored mech responded.   Then he placed his servos on the floor in front of him and bent over in a very low bow to Hana no Shison.   “ _I promise_ , I will do my very best to help them adjust and find their places in the universe,” he said to her.

            “Your kindness is truly appreciated, young Hot Rod,” the old woman responded.   “Thank you for taking on the care of these two children.”

            Then the group of those of Cybertronian descent rose and went to help the two of Jyuuishi gather their small set of belongings, before leaving.   Kazenoha spoke with the Jyuuishins that came to see to Hana no Shison’s final comforts, as well as speaking with the dispensor, then left with Hot Rod’s group feeling a deep ache in her Spark.   They were introduced to Deadlock as soon as they got back to the _Thunder Arrow_.   Hot Rod noticed the clean scent and fresh polish on the Decepticon warrior’s armour and derma—well, at least he and Star Saber hadn’t wasted any time while they were alone together and maybe it meant the Autobot warrior was feeling better if he was willing to be intimate with one of his lovers for a short time.

            Deadlock showed them around the ship and gave them a temporary set of quarters—which they chose to share, because they did back on the Shison Estate, too—to use until they got back to Dorn.

            “I think a good way for the two of you to choose your fresh start would be to choose more _Cybertronian-sounding_ names,” Deadlock said to the two Jyuuishin-born Cybertronian descendants as he sat down in his pilot’s seat.   “ _You, **sit**_ ,” he commanded, pointing at Hot Rod and then to the co-pilot’s seat.   “There are some seats around the bridge, feel free to sit in any of them, except for the captain’s chair—that’s for _Deszaras’ use_ only,” he added, glancing at the two foreigners.

            “Allow me to help you find a suitable translation and set of glyphs for your names,” Soundwave said to the two from Jyuuishin.   They all were seated at some sort of science station at the back of the bridge area.

            “Got word that Optimus Prime’s already on Dorn waiting for you—want me to draw it out a bit longer?”  Deadlock chuckled, glancing at Hot Rod and showing him some of the co-piloting duties before takeoff.

            “I should probably get it over with, as soon as possible,” Hot Rod sighed.   “It’s just………..since he was revived, Optimus hasn’t treated me with the respect that I fought so hard to earn.  I’m still like just one more mech to fuel in his Autobot group.   As such, he thought he had to protect me from the _evil Decepticon_ that was holding me hostage—despite the fact that I went to Chaar by choice and I have _sparklings_ with Galvatron.”

            “You may be young, but you are **_not_** a newmech anymore—the Autobot Leader needs to start seeing that,” the grey-and-white Decepticon said, softly.   “I may enjoy fighting and beating the hell out of people, but I can appreciate the ceasefire accords as well.   It makes me feel less awkward in having the relationship with Saber now.   I _used_ to feel guilty before.   Des never has, though.”

            “How long did it take before you became more informal with your commander, too?”  Hot Rod asked, grinning over at the older mech.

            “Just a bit before Saber came aboard,” Deadlock responded with a wry chuckle.  “ _We’re taking off!_ ”   He called back to the other three, so they could hang on for the initial thrust out of the atmosphere.   “So, a few centuries at any rate.   It gets easier once you start doing it more often.   Mostly, with Saber, it was me seeing his Autobot brand after we’ve fragged and feeling awkward, since I’ve always been a Decepticon.”    Deadlock punched a few buttons and pulled a few levers as he rubbed at his scarred brand and then he glanced over at the young, flame-colored mech.  “You must have felt something of the same awkwardness and guilt with you first began doing things with Galvatron, surely………?”

            Hot Rod thought back to that time on that desert world.   He had been ashamed the whole time they were there—but had so desperately wanted Galvatron to just end his life.   He felt guilty that his body responded………he even begged for Galvatron to _keep fragging him_.   Shame and guilt had eaten away at him, all the way up until Spike told him that true feelings can’t always be contained or controlled—and if Rodimus Prime felt something, _anything at all_ , for Galvatron…………then it was worth pursuing.   Rodimus grasped at the very idea of the ceasefire accords to somehow give his desire—the longing for a relationship with Galvatron, even if only on a physical basis— _an actual legitimacy_.

            Sometimes when Springer would just keep telling him that the kind of relationship he had with Galvatron was improper and unhealthy—Rodimus would still be hit with some waves of guilt, even as he always fell apart under Galvatron’s touch and longed for it _so badly_.   But seeing Galvatron’s Decepticon brand after they fragged always brought fresh waves of shame and guilt upon him the whole time while he was the Autobot Leader, even as he knew how desperately he was in love with his powerful warlord.

            But after the hate plague and going to live on Chaar—it was like the shame was _finally gone_.   He no longer seemed to feel shame or guilt upon seeing Galvatron’s Decepticon brand after they’d fragged anymore.

            “ _Yeah_.   I get what you mean.  I think at some point it just no longer matters, right?  I think that’s where I finally got to realizing it, anyways,” Hot Rod answered.   “Galvatron protects the ceasefire accords, because of _me_ —as long as Galvatron does that, I _don’t_ feel guilty anymore.   I don’t feel ashamed looking at his brand, because all it tells me now is that he’s just a _different type_ of Cybertronian than I am.”

            “We all have you to thank for where we’re at today,” Deadlock responded with a warm smile.   “And eventually we’ll find everyone left to find on the frontier.   But now I wonder—are _those two_ a fluke, or did other slave brand models manage to find the key to producing offspring?  And are they, or even further descendants, possibly out there—farther out than the frontier?   On the Galactic Alliance’s worlds or other worlds?”

            “So……….. _you_ think the descendants can reproduce, too?”  Hot Rod whispered, for once hearing someone echo his own musings on the evolution of the Cybertron species.

            “Why not?   They wouldn’t have had the protocols and programming removed, as those of us to come from Vector Sigma’s chambers would have.   If a planet they were sold to had purchased multiple slaves who all produced some offspring, the offspring would likely have the programs and protocols as well—they _should_ be able to breed,” Deadlock answered with a shrug.

            “You’re a lot more complex than I realized, Deadlock,” the flame-colored mech laughed warmly.

            “I do nothing but think—when I’m not fighting or fragging,” he chuckled softly in response.   “ _Planetfall on Dorn in ten minutes!_ ”  The Decepticon warrior called back to Soundwave, Daichizuchou and Kazenoha.

            As soon as they landed, in the clearing made before by the _Thunder Arrow_.   The small group of Hot Rod, Sixshot, Kazenoha and Daichizuchou disembarked and trekked through the jungle back to where Fortress Maximus was.   It looked like more of the foliage had been cleared away—they had been able to see much of the Delta Sentinel’s massive frame before they landed.   It was mostly grey and blue—with smudges of organic green, of course.

            “Hot Rod, we’ve chosen some Cybertronian names,” Daichizuchou said as he started walking next to the flame-colored mech, pulling vines and branches out of his way when he needed to.   “I’ve chosen to use the name _‘Dai Atlas’_ —it comes closest to the definition of my Jyuuishin name.”

            “ _I like it!_    It has a sense of strength behind it, too—just how your sense of presence feels to me,” Hot Rod answered, happily.   “I notice neither of you use your EM fields all that much—do you know _how_ to use them?”   He asked, curiously as Kazenoha came up next to her brother.

            “ _Mmmm_.  We hold them very tightly to our frames.   We chose not to use them much, as they often interfered with some of the technological items upon the estate,” the slender red-and-black femme answered softly.   “And I have chosen the Cybertronian-style name of _‘Windblade’_ ,” she added, smiling softly at Hot Rod.

            “Ah, that’s a _very beautiful_ name!”   Hot Rod responded, grinning.   “My children seem to know about their EM fields, we’ve _never_ had to teach them.   But they’re not too good at controlling them so finely, yet.   I think Cyclonus may be teaching Novablaze how to control his, but I think Stormbreaker’s still pretty young to be taught much yet.  Her attention span wavers a lot right now, with her age.”

            “I look forward to seeing your children.   I have _never before_ seen tiny ones,” Windblade answered, smiling warmly.

            “I happen to remember when Kaze-chan was born, I had a few centuries to my life already,” Dai Atlas responded with a grin.   “Our parents had…………. _four children_ between them.   But we are the only ones to survive.   The first one, the one before me………….it did not develop properly.   From what my father told me, he thought it was because neither of them had quite understood what to do to insure a proper birth for our kind.   Mother went and spoke with other Jyuuishins to understand how they bore children and she adapted what she had learned and then she and father did not fight the programs and protocols that delineated such a thing.”

            Hot Rod figured that Dai Atlas used the terms “ _mother_ ” and “ _father_ ”, because that’s what they knew on Jyuuishin.   It may likely be that their sire was a mech and their carrier was a femme—so the gender-delineation would also suit the Jyuuishin terms as well.   Since Dai Atlas said that the firstborn one didn’t develop properly—it may have been that it didn’t get enough Sparklight or materials for the frame core in the gestation tank.

            “After Dai-chan had been born and survived into adulthood, they felt they had figured out how to do it properly, but………..Jyuuishin had come into a war at that time and many of the noble houses were destroyed.   The Shison household survived and once peace had come and the household settled again, eventually our parents had me,” Windblade explained, folding her hands over her chest with a little bit of a sign of prayer and homage.   “But after I was born, there was another conflict that came from outside Jyuuishin.  During this time, our parents had been _trying_ to have another child, but our father was killed during the conflict that came.   The child didn’t have enough support to develop and it broke our mother’s Spark to lose it and our father—she died as well.”

            Hot Rod nodded in understanding.   Without the sire to provide Sparklight and material to the forge in the gestation tank—a sparkling couldn’t grow at all.   The broken Spark-bond, as well—that was likely why their carrier died.

            About the time that Dai Atlas and Windblade had finished up their story—they had finally gotten back to where the entrance to Fortress Maximus’ insides were.   A deep warbling greeted them from the old Delta Sentinel.

            “We’re back!   I hope you’re feeling better, Max!”   Hot Rod called as they entered into the frame’s interior areas.   The deep, rumbling warble sounded happy—so, the flame-colored mech took that as a “ _yes_ ”.

            A glowing stream of pulsing biolights led the small group to a large conference room, where Cerebros, Deszaras and the others were—as well as Optimus Prime, Bumblebee and a couple Autobots from his command—they all seemed to be talking about the refueling of a mech as large as this titan.   And talking about how long it would take for the fuel to circulate through his systems.

            “We’re back.   This is Dai Atlas and Windblade from Jyuuishin, they’ll be coming back to the Autobot Embassy on Chaar with me for a temporary stay and education until they decide where they want to live,” Hot Rod said, introducing the mech and the femme from Jyuuishin.   “Optimus…….let’s go find somewhere else to talk, okay?”  He asked, motioning and taking the Autobot Leader out into the hallway.   The flame-colored mech noticed a flow of biolighting was guiding them to a smaller, more private conference room.   “ _Um_ , I did **_try_** to tell Galvatron that this wasn’t the way the Matrix worked, but…………he just doesn’t get some things,” he said, a little embarrassed to have to ask Optimus Prime for this favor.

            “Conversely, I’ve been wondering if this is _exactly_ how it works, Hot Rod,” Optimus said, standing in a relaxed posture and he cupped his chin thoughtfully.   “The Matrix of Leadership is supposedly a repository of knowledge—and if it is just that, then we should be able to access that knowledge when we _need_ to.   _You_ were the one who looked far enough back to see what the Quintessons were—that is a knowledge that we’ve long since forgotten and even Alpha Trion _never_ mentioned them to me, even though he had been alive during their time.”

            Hot Rod felt a warmth brimming within him.   Had Optimus _finally_ accepted him as an equal—as someone worthy of his respect?

            “Did you try looking into the Matrix before I got here?”   Hot Rod asked, curiously.

            “ _I did_.   And it gave me some basic knowledge from the time of the Quintessons.  One piece of knowledge I did find rather interesting………….” the Autobot Leader responded, he placed both hands on his hips and gazed up at the ceiling of the room.  “The Matrix told me there were _four types of Sentinels_ on Cybertron during the era of the Quintessons, created by the Quintessons.   We are the most familiar with one of them—the _Omega Sentinels_ , because the Omega Sentinels lasted through the Golden Age and even up until the rising of the Decepticons.”

            “And now we have this guy, a _Delta Sentinel_ ,” Hot Rod responded, folding his arms across his chest and gazing at the table in the center of the room absently.

            “We are also familiar with a type which they called a _‘Gamma Sentinel’_ ,” the red-and-blue Autobot Leader continued.   “This explains a good many things that we did not understand—the combination technology.   A _‘Gamma Sentinel’_ back in that era was a combining team, a gestalt as we know it.   However, the Gamma Sentinels were created after the main force of the Quintessons were driven from Cybertron—they were created by the stubborn members of the Quintesson race that refused to leave Cybertron under any circumstances.   This is a portion of our planet’s history that is shadowed even more than the Quintesson occupation itself—for these remaining Quintessons were driven into the shadowy depths of Cybertron and dug in for a siege of the planet.”

            “So, these Gamma Sentinels were not actually created in the time of the main occupation, but were in answer to our uprising by stubborn Quintessons who wouldn’t be driven away?”  Hot Rod responded, looking up at the Autobot Leader.   He saw a very puzzled, yet very angry, look on Optimus Prime’s face.   “What’s wrong?”   The young, flame-colored mech asked, softly.

            “It may be _my fault_ that Megatron got the gestalt technology,” the red-and-blue mech sighed, softly, laying a servo over his face.  “There was a time before, when you made the statement about my Spark-bond to Megatron.   Like many mistakes in my life, this is something I really have no desire to discuss.   But because you’ve Spark-bonded, I think you understand what goes into and comes out of a Spark-bond.”   Hot Rod nodded as Optimus Prime looked down at him.   He kept his field and expression neutral so that the Autobot Leader would continue.  “When Alpha Trion rebuilt my body, back when I was Orion Pax…………he also gave me the Matrix of Leadership.   At that time, the Matrix was an object to be kept secret, even most of the Autobots didn’t know about its existence back then.   Megatron _was_ a very charming mech—I fell for him as Orion Pax and, unfortunately, I was weak to him a few times after I was Optimus Prime.”

            “ _How_ ………..how did Megatron **_not_** see the Matrix in your chest, then?”   Hot Rod asked, his optics cycled open wide, making the blue glass coverings glow brightly.

            “Alpha Trion was incredibly skilled at creating hidden compartments.   When I carried the Matrix—I had been gravely cautioned to keep it _hidden_ , only Ratchet knew where the secret compartment was in my chest.   So, any other medical professional that needed to work on me thought that the compartment was merely extra shielding over my backup systems.   The inside of my chest looked like any other mech’s or femme’s, with the fuel pump, other internals and the Spark inside,” the Autobot Leader explained.   “I think a lot of the things Megatron learned—that he should never have known of—had been things I had echoing inside of me while carrying the Matrix of Leadership.   Megatron found the Gamma Sentinel data in our Spark-bonding as well as many other things he should not have learned.”

            “Did you two _data-‘face_ as well?”   Hot Rod asked, voice low and surprised.

            Optimus Prime looked at him with complete and utter shock.

            “ _Uh, **okay**_.   That is probably a _‘no’_ ,” the flame-colored mech mumbled, facepalming himself with embarrassment.   “Skip it, okay?   I know all of what I do with Galvatron already pisses most of the Autobots off, we’re not going to talk about it.”

            “You are a lot bolder than I ever thought, Hot Rod, to take on a mech _like that_ and never get burned,” Optimus Prime chuckled softly.   “Anyways……to get back onto the right topic, now.   There is a fourth kind of Sentinel and this is the one I have no data upon but for its name.”  The Autobot Leader paused as the littler flame-colored mech focused on him.   “ _The Alpha Sentinel_.   There is only one and I don’t know who or what it is………or _where_ it is, if it even exists anymore.   That knowledge isn’t in the Matrix whatsoever, only its name is in the Matrix.”

            Hot Rod went silent, his mouth slightly agape.   A billion thoughts rushed through his brain module.   _It………it **couldn’t** be_.   **_No_**.   _That………… **it couldn’t be**!_   It just _couldn’t_ be………….. ** _could it_**?   A memory came back to him—one from not all that long ago……………

 

 

            “ _No other leader_ has ever done as you have,” Arrowshot said, firmly, staring into his optics.  “There are………… _regrets_ …………upon the long-range strategic planning between the Matrix and Vector Sigma—you were **_never_** meant to become broken.   You were meant to become forged to a strength unmatched in any other bearer of the Matrix………..your adversities were _supposed_ to make you stronger, _not_ make you hate yourself.”

 

 

            The Matrix had _an intelligence_ ………and Vector Sigma was known more as the A.I. that created all the Transformers that exist now.   The Matrix was considered the original “ _key_ ” to Vector Sigma’s chamber and systems.   But what if they _weren’t_ actually separate things?   What if the Matrix was……… _the brain module_ …………and Vector Sigma was………… _the Spark_?    What if the………what if this Alpha Sentinel was _Cybertron itself_?

            **_What if the Alpha Sentinel was Cybertron and Cybertron was Primus?_**

            Primus made no real sense to the Transformers species—and yet a religion had built around a mythical figure named thus.   As Hot Rod had researched and thought more of their species as an evolution from a brand of created mechs and femmes meant to be slaves, he’d wondered how the religion that many Transformers acknowledged—maybe briefly, even if they didn’t adhere to it, which most didn’t do anymore—had been acquired.   He’d always figured that religion—Primus, the Pit and the Afterspark—came about as thing for the slaves to cling to, to make their lives as slaves easier.

            For many species in existence, religion evolved to bring comfort to the lives being lived.   So, Hot Rod never thought of things any differently than that.   And all Transformers created by Vector Sigma had the basis of that religion incorporated into them, but what if it was for an actual purpose?   What if Primus was real and maybe needed the belief of his children to live again?

            What if Cybertron _really was_ this Alpha Sentinel— _was Primus_?

            And what if the only reason Primus was dormant was because his children didn’t believe in him, not for real anyways—only as a religious thing, to cling to for comfort and support?

            But why did the Quintessons create Primus and _never use him_?

            Because he was too large and the Quintessons didn’t conquer things, probably…………?

            Maybe that was why they were okay with settling on random planet after planet after planet?   They had originally created their own planet to live on—a planet that would help them create all the things they needed, including a slave race—and without that planet that they had put their entire life’s work into, they had no desire to create another world like that.   It wasn’t as if there wasn’t a planet-sized Transformer that had already existed out in the universe—there had been Unicron.   And maybe some offshoot or similar ancestor to the Quintesson race had actually created Unicron………….

            “Optimus………..” Hot Rod began, reaching up and clamping his servos onto the Autobot Leader’s shoulders.   “I know _who_ the Alpha Sentinel is— _maybe, **possibly**_.   And if I’m right, I _know_ why the Matrix doesn’t know of it.    **_Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaappppppppppppp_** ………….this is just………… _way too much_!”

            “Hot Rod?”  Optimus Prime asked, looking down at the littler mech.

            “Lemme borrow the Matrix—just for a little bit, okay?   Gimme an hour or so to commune with it—I’m pretty sure I even know where to look for the knowledge on the Delta Sentinel is within it,” the flame-colored mech asked, smiling brilliantly up at the Autobot Leader.

            “Very well,” the red-and-blue mech responded, opening his chest and removing the heritage object from it.

            Hot Rod took the Matrix and it ( _thankfully!_ ) did not immediately revert him into his Rodimus Prime frame—that _wasn’t_ what he needed right now.   He just needed the answer to figure out how to restore Fortress Maximus’ pilot………and he didn’t need Rodimus Prime to do that.   Hot Rod just needed to ask one single former leader inside of the Matrix his question to get the answer.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “I am flattered you enjoy speaking with me, Hot Rod,” Arrowshot laughed.   “So, how can I help you out today?”   The first carrier of the Matrix—the thief of the original key—asked, a warm light in his ruby-red optics.   He waved an arm out and the environment around them became a field on Cybertron—with the gleam and glow associated with the Golden Age, then he encouraged them to walk as they spoke.

            “ _Okay_.   So, Optimus looked up the information on the Sentinels.   _All four types_.   You know of them, yeah?”  The little flame-colored mech asked, looking up at the ancient warrior.

            “When I was living, I was only aware of _three_ types—I did not hear of the fourth until I became a part of the Matrix, but even it can’t explain exactly what the Alpha Sentinel is,” Arrowshot answered, giving a light shrug of his armoured shoulders.

            “It can’t explain, because it’s **_forgotten_** who it is,” Hot Rod said, dashing in front of the grey-and-purple ancient mech, reaching up to grip his shoulders excitedly, just as he’d done to Optimus Prime a few moments ago.   “ _Like Max did_ —Fortress Maximus, the Delta Sentinel on Dorn, had been alone for so long that he _forgot_ who he was!   But the Alpha Sentinel is older and never claimed his true form— _he’s been in his alt mode all this time_ —so he doesn’t really know who he is at all.   And………..it’s _not just that_!   His parts have become modular………..we’re using his brain and his Spark as _‘objects’_!”

            Arrowshot glanced down at the littler flame-colored mech, curiously.  

            “ _You_ can explain this to the Matrix—to Vector Sigma—because _you are still you_!   You’ve become part of the modular-ness of the Alpha Sentinel!”   Hot Rod said, his excitement bright and vivid.

            “You’ll have to spell that out for me, little one.   However, _that’s_ not really why you came here, was it?”   The old thief and warrior chuckled warmly.

            “ _No_.   Yeah, you’re right,” the flame-colored mech sighed, dropping his arms back to his sides.   “I need to know how to fix Fortress Maximus’ pilot……..but he’s been long dead.”

            “You _don’t_ need to fix Cog—you need to _adapt_ Cerebros,” Arrowshot answered with a chuckle.   He put one servo on a hip and motioned with the other one as he spoke, which reminded Hot Rod of the way Galvatron tended to speak when he was relaxed.   “I’m surprised you couldn’t figure that out yourself, since clearly Cerebros has formed a rapport with Fortress Maximus.”

            Hot Rod stood there, stunned, his mouth agape.   Then he facepalmed himself.   “ _Oh, duh!_    Yeah, _that’s right_ —would it be too hard to adapt him?   Can Hook do it?”   He asked.

            “It’s beyond my knowledge, but…………I’m being told he could—it might take Hook looking inside of Cog’s frame to see if some adaptive things are necessary,” the grey-and-purple mech responded with a soft chuckle.   “Now, for your _other thing_.   What I’m being told is a bit roundabout and confusing—it sounds like you are _mostly right_ , but Vector Sigma **_isn’t_** the Spark.   It’s a _‘directional motivator’_.”

            “A **_what-the-what_** now?”   Hot Rod laughed.   “No, but _that makes sense_ —Cerebros said that the term Max used for his _‘pilot’_ was old and didn’t really translate well.   The words you’re using are probably something like that—old and difficult to translate.   But the Matrix **_is_** the brain module?”

            “ _Yes_.   The Spark is different than our own Sparks—it sounds like Vector Sigma creates the Sparks of our kind via Spark-ignition using its very own Spark,” Arrowshot said, his head tilted as he listened to what the Matrix and Vector Sigma were telling to him.   “Cybertron’s _core_ is a Spark-crystal—a giant one that keeps growing and growing and **_that_** is the Spark of the Alpha Sentinel.   They shave off crystal and keep the core-Spark healthy by igniting new Sparks every so often.”

            “Is Cybertron _supposed_ to be the mythical Primus?”   Hot Rod asked, reverently.

            “I think that’s as close an understanding as we can get—Cybertron **_is_** the Alpha Sentinel, I think the name of _‘Primus’_ came later, when that religion developed.   All of this is why new Cybertronians are ignited in groups,” the old thief and warrior chuckled.   “To balance out the core-Spark every so often, many other Sparks had to ignite from it.”

            “Except _me_ ,” Hot Rod murmured.   “Why was **_I_** born alone?”

            Arrowshot tilted his head, trying to understand the answer that Vector Sigma and the Matrix were giving to him.   The grey-and-purple mech looked upset.   If he hadn’t had a warrior’s facial shield, Hot Rod could’ve seen his deep frown.

            “Do you want to hear the truth—or would you rather not know?”   Arrowshot asked, his voice somehow sounding very old and very tired.

            “Please tell me—I think I _need_ to know,” Hot Rod whispered.

            “I explained to you once before that you are _special— **unique**_.   You were _crafted_ to hold the Matrix,” the old thief and warrior explained, motioning with one servo.   “Leaders were guided to the next in succession—they might see signs showing the suitability of one candidate over another, however this was never a fully accurate process in choosing the successor.   Each successor brought their own skills and knowledge to the _‘Autobot Leader’_ position, whether they were the right choice or not, but the Matrix was never really meant to belong only to the _‘Autobots’_ —it is the collective knowledge of our species and **_belongs to everyone_** and is the brain module of the Alpha Sentinel.”

            Hot Rod nodded and smiled, encouraging Arrowshot to continue.

            “ ** _You_** were crafted to bring that realization to all—to bridge this gap between _‘Autobots’_ and _‘Decepticons’_ —to bring both slave lines together as one, as Cybertronians,” Arrowshot continued, folding his arms across his chest.   “Because you were _specifically crafted_ to be a mediator, a translator of history and bearer of the future—they had to put **_everything_** into your Spark, all at once.   They could not be distracted with crafting multiple Sparks at the same time.   That is why _your Spark_ is a color that belongs to no other.   Even Novablaze’s special _‘God Spark’_ shares a common color with some others that have been and will still yet come.   Your Spark is **_white_** to show _unity_ —white light through a prism grants _all the colors_.   The hint of blue in it shows your empathy— _your kindness_.   Your Spark may be similar to Galvatron’s—a _‘Premium Spark’_ as your medics have been calling them—but there are **_no others_** in your race that have these Premium Sparks.   _Just you and Galvatron_.   And keep in mind, although the frame of Megatron was used—Unicron reformatted and crafted Galvatron of his own design.   Your Spark and Galvatron’s Spark—these were crafted to forge a great destiny for our species.   You were born alone, so that Vector Sigma and the Matrix could focus solely on crafting you to be everything that the Alpha Sentinel needed you to be.”

            “I’m so small and no one has ever considered me important—so, why me?”   Hot Rod asked, softly, clenching a fist over his chest with a note of anxiety.   He also noted the fact of the idea that Unicron _crafted_ Galvatron—and it may well have been in response to Hot Rod’s very existence, thus the ignition of _Galvatron’s_ Premium Spark.   Unicron may have known Hot Rod was out there— _known_ _the capabilities of **all** that Hot Rod could be!_—even if the world devourer didn’t know exactly who he was at the time.

            “Galvatron has always considered you important— _remember that_ ,” Arrowshot chuckled, his tone warm and kind.   “From the very moment he met you, as an individual—even when you were enemies, you were his _‘greatest enemy’_ , his _‘incomparable rival’_.   Galvatron has **_always_** considered you, _and only you_ , as his most perfect match.”

            “Arrowshot—I **_want_** to be better, I really do!   I just don’t know how to get there………..” the young, flame-colored mech trailed off.

            “You see yourself as guiding Galvatron—but even as you do so, _let him guide you_.   He doesn’t see limits or limitations, he moves forwards— ** _always_**.   You tend to hesitate, but there are times when you _shouldn’t_.   Let Galvatron be your guide—let him show you the bravery you need to seize the future,” the first of those referred to as an “ _Autobot Leader_ ” (even though he really wasn’t) said, firmly, his voice full of warmth.

            “ _I will! **I promise!**_    And thank you, Arrowshot—thank them _all_ for me!”  Hot Rod said, running off into the distance—symbolizing his retreat from the depths of the Matrix to get back to reality and get things moving on the right track.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “ _These_ are gemstones?”   Novablaze asked, easily holding up the small boulder, which was way too large for either of the humans to lift.   There were colored things embedded in the boulder.    “And they’re _worth something_?”   The youngling inquired, the tone in his vocalizer showing puzzlement.

            “Well, it depends,” Thomas Jones laughed.   “ _Anything_ can be worth something to someone—on Earth gemstones like this are valuable because we’ve _placed value_ on them.   Even money is technically not worth anything—we just _make it worth something_.   When society does that, it’s something that lets them grow—usually for good, sometimes for bad.”

            “Cybertronian currency is _‘shanix’_ , I think I’ve heard cari say,” Novablaze murmured.   “Swindle uses an exchange of shanix for things like pretty objects or blankets or furniture.”

            “Having things like this to exchange for things you want is important for an economy of any society—and if you don’t interact with your neighbors, it can make your society turn inwards and there’s _no growth_ ,” the human scientist chuckled warmly.

            “Doctor Jones—how much more do you wish me to dig up?”   Scavenger asked, pushing his scoop back down into the hole to grab more dirt and whatever might be in the dirt.

            “Just a couple more piles—I’ll get some more soil samples from the deeper areas you’ve hit and see what we’ve got, then I’ll call it quits so I can analyze all the samples!”   Thomas laughed, waving back over at the Constructicon.

            “Just from what I’ve noticed so far, there seem to be some interesting minerals in the soil of Chaar,” Mixmaster murmured, holding a handful of dirt in his servo and his optics recycled to a scanning mode to evaluate it.    “Thank you for persuading Galvatron to do this.   I hadn’t even thought about evaluating Chaar’s structure and such.”

            “I noticed some old structural portions in the planet.   Did a species _live_ here before?   I would’ve thought we’d’ve found some bones if there were………..?”  The human inquired, looking up at the Constructicon analyst.

            “We have often wondered that, too,” Mixmaster said, dropping the soil back down onto a pile and standing up straight.   “But we’ve considered the fact that this may have been some kind of base instead, rather than a culture or society.   It would make more sense that this is merely an abandoned base-world, as we’ve never found other obvious remains of a species and society.”

            Scavenger gave a gleeful little laugh.   “I can’t wait to dig up things on the other planets, too— _dig, dig dig!_   It’s what I’m _made_ for!”   The Constructicon chortled in a sing-song tone, swiveling and dumping a few more piles of dirt onto the surface before transforming into his primary mode.

            “If we do find things of potential value here, it will persuade Galvatron—well, Cyclonus really—to allow us to evaluate samples on the other worlds in this system that Lord Galvatron has claimed so far,” Mixmaster added, nodding down at the human.   “Lord Galvatron likes the _end result_ , not necessarily how much effort and time it takes to get there—Cyclonus would appreciate the effort leading up to it, though,” he added when Thomas Jones gave him a puzzled look.

            “ _Got it. **Hey Rad!**_    Let’s get a dozen samples from each pile!”  Thomas called to his intern.   “Hey Nova—wanna carry that rock back to the embassy for me?”   He asked with a big grin.

            “I can do it, Doctor Jones!”  Novablaze answered, nodding eagerly.

            After about thirty more minutes of messing around in the dirt, the group finally went back to the embassy.   The Constructicons, and their three Autobot interns, took a few samples with them to analyze themselves and before the humans had to go back home, they’d share the information they’d each all learned from the soil samples.  

            Thomas Jones and his assistant had been given one of the large, first floor conference rooms for their equipment and had set up shop there.   Jazz and Beachcomber went with Rad to unload their samples to evaluate while Thomas went walking over to the seating area where Novablaze had walked over to check in with Slipstream.

            “ _Nvaaaaaa!!!_ ”   Stormbreaker squealed, jumping in her playpen excitedly.

            Novablaze set the boulder down beside him and reached in to pull his sister out of the playpen.   She glomped her arms about his neck happily and purred as she hugged him.   Thomas Jones was very surprised at the sounds of the Transformers in their normal environments—they had a lot of sounds that conveyed emotions, probably in conjunction with their EM fields.   Among humans, that purring sound would be like she was emulating a cat, but it seemed that among Transformers it was a sound conveying happiness and contentment.   He’d gotten a good education while he was here, on how Transformers naturally communicated with one another, as almost everyone spoke Cybertronian in the embassy, unless they were including the humans in all conversations.   Very different at how the Autobots only used English or other Earth languages when they were in the base on Athenia!

            “ _Medi!_ ”  Stormbreaker giggled, waving a grabby hand at Thomas.

            He’d realized it was short for “ _medic_ ” and that was how _Galvatron_ had addressed him—so Doctor Jones just smiled at the little femmeling with warmth.   “How are you today, sweetie?”   The human father asked, reaching a hand up so she could grab his fingers lightly for a few moments.

            “ _Hppy_ ,” the red-colored femmeling murmured, her voice sounding a little sleepy.

            “She just woke up, so she’s still a bit sleepy yet,” Slipstream answered, chuckling warmly.   “What is this that you’ve found?”   She asked, kneeling and brushing a few clawed fingertips over the gem-laden boulder.

            “Until we can break up the stone a little bit—we’re not sure if there are multiple gemstones in that rock or if there’s a multi-colored gemstone there,” Thomas responded with a grin.   “We’ve got a number of soil samples to look at in the next few days, too.   Though………Rad and I will probably need to go home soon—we’ve only got enough provisions for the next three days.   We may have to take our work home with us, I think.”

            “Well, you can _always_ come back, too,” Slipstream chuckled.

            “Like I wouldn’t anyways?”   Thomas chortled.   “I’m off to look at some dirt now—see you kids later!”   He laughed as he turned and walked towards the conference room they were using.

            Novablaze sat down on the floor and put Stormbreaker in front of him.   She saw the big rock and made grabby hands at it—the lights above were making glinting sparkles on the gemstones embedded in it.

            “ _Wha’zzz_???”  Stormbreaker asked as her brother rolled the rock over in front of her.   She craned her head up to look into the youngling’s faceplate quizzically.

            “It’s a rock, from outside—it’s got _shiny rocks_ inside it!”   Novablaze answered with a big grin, reaching up a servo to rub her helm gently.

            The femmeling tried to dig her little claws around the gemstones, but they wouldn’t move and she made little mumbles of disappointment.   “ _No muuv_ …….” Stormbreaker whispered.

            “Doctor Jones will figure out how to get the shiny rocks out of it soon,” Slipstream said, reaching over to rub her helm gently.

            Suddenly, the familiar, powerful EM field of Galvatron washed over the lobby area of the embassy—even as the purple-and-grey mech walked through the doors and carefully closed them, knowing the humans were in the area.    The Decepticon Leader walked straight over to the seating area and squatted down next to Novablaze and Stormbreaker.

            “And what have we here?”   He asked, his deep voice rumbling with a light laugh within it.

            “ _Rokk!_ ”  Stormbreaker said, excitedly, still grabbing at the colorful gems sticking out of it.

            “It is indeed, my little Stormbreaker.   Is it _your_ rock?”  Galvatron laughed, reaching down to rub her helm fondly.

            “ ** _Nooooooooo_** _…………’s’medi’s_ ,” the femmeling answered in a disappointed voice.

            Galvatron chuckled.   It was good for his femmeling’s development that she understood what belonged to her and what did not.   “There will be many rocks that you can find for yourself on Chaar when you are older, my little one,” the Decepticon Leader answered in a firm voice, grabbing her gently by the back of her neck and placing her into the crook of his arm as he stood up.   “Your carrier will be returning soon.   Perhaps tomorrow,” he said, grinning down at her as he glanced into the playpen and saw her precious kitty was wrapped in a blanket—as if it were resting.   He was pleased to see that she also seemed to understand the need to recover from an injury—she was giving her plush kitty time to heal.

            “ ** _Caaarrriiiiii!_** ”  Stormbreaker said with excitement, snuggling against Galvatron’s side.

            The past week, her words had gotten better—she was trying to speak more than ever before.   Galvatron felt it was because they had the humans visiting, so her curiosity had her trying harder to do things like speaking and walking.   She definitely wanted to know what was going on in the conference room—especially when she heard laughter from the humans or the Constructicons visiting the humans!

            “You may not have your carrier back immediately—for I should like to speak with him first and claim his time, will you allow this, my Stormbreaker?”  Galvatron asked, gazing down into his femmeling’s violet glass-covered optics.

            “ _’Kay_ ,” Stormbreaker answered, her voice very soft.   Then she snuggled back into Galvatron’s chest happily.

            “How goes your day, my Novablaze?”   The Decepticon Leader asked, gazing down at the youngling fondly.

            “It’s interesting how many different kinds of jobs there are in the universe, sire.   It seems weird that looking at rocks and dirt is a job, but Doctor Jones and Rad seem to like doing it.   Then there’s Scavenger and Mixmaster, too………..as well as Scoop and the others,” the purple-and-yellow youngling chuckled, smiling fondly.

            “This is true.   I have learned this as well.   And that there may even be meaning behind such lowly things as rocks and dirt,” Galvatron responded, nodding down at his youngling.   “Scavenger has expressed to me a desire to dig upon the other planets we have taken in this system, so it is a request I may soon grant.   So long as we can prevent the Trylians from stirring up too much trouble.   My young heir, will you soon feel like resuming your combat training?”   The Emperor of the Decepticons inquired, glancing down at the youngling.

            “ _Yeah!_  I’m ready, sire!”  Novablaze said, excitedly, almost jumping up and down with his excitement.

            “Very well.   After things have settled, once your carrier returns, then we shall begin scheduling more combat training for you,” Galvatron responded, smiling down at his youngling fondly.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “This is very fascinating,” Hook said, a little tinge of awe in the tone of his vocalizer.  “And you were created how many years ago, Cerebros?”   He asked, closing the Autobot’s chestplate carefully.

            “Just a couple centuries.   I came out of Vector Sigma’s chamber with about ten others,” the black-and-grey mech responded, sitting up carefully.

            Hot Rod and Optimus Prime stood in a corner of the room, just watching.   Now that Hot Rod knew _the truth_ —hearing Cerebros say he’d been born around others didn’t hurt as much anymore.   The flame-colored mech realized that to craft something unique and special required great attention—in short, Hot Rod was _not_ a mass-produced Cybertronian as most of them were.   He was a _crafted_ Cybertronian for a special task.

            He _wasn’t_ alone………….. ** _he was special_**.   Just as Galvatron had always tried to tell him that he was.   It was time to stop thinking of his past (and even his present or future!) in negative terms, it was time to start looking at things for the way they honestly were.

            “There are certain adaptive oddities in your systems which allow for………… _combination_ ,” Hook answered, tapping his datapad against his other servo thoughtfully.    “It is different than a gestalt combination such as we have, but it does make me curious what the combination is for.   Can you ask once again to see if Fortress Maximus can explain what this _‘pilot’_ is?”

            “I’ve asked in dozens of ways, basically I just get _‘the pilot is the pilot’_ —though sometimes I get words that may also translate as _‘brain’_ or _‘guide’_ ,” Cerebros answered with a light chuckle.   There was a soft, responsive rumble from the great mech around them.

            “I can adapt the specific things that resemble what’s inside of Cog, but without you knowing what the style of combination it—I’m not really certain I can give you the coding needed for it.   With Cog dead, I can’t get the coding of his type from him,” the Constructicon medic said with a deep sigh.

            “Hook—if Max said _‘brain’_ , what’s the first thing you think of?”  Hot Rod said, raising a servo and speaking up from where he and Optimus had been standing quietly in the corner.

            “I would immediately think of the _head module_.  We have _auxiliary memory circuitry_ in our chests, but our brain module is in our heads,” Hook answered.   Then he stopped and looked at Hot Rod in surprise.   “Is that possible?   Could this Cog transform and become the head module for a giant mech?”

            Fortress Maximus gave a warm, rumbling sound.   It made Cerebros laugh.

            “He is _confirming_ that,” the grey-and-black mech chuckled warmly.

            “Well, _that’s_ certainly an interesting way to combine!”   Hook laughed.   “Let’s take a look at yours and Cog’s circuitry again—see what I can do to adapt you to this.”

            “You’ve been fairly quiet since you communed with the Matrix, but your field seems to be in an excited state—is everything all right, Hot Rod?”  Optimus Prime asked, quietly, looking at the smaller flame-colored mech beside him.

            “Whenever I look into the Matrix, I find so many new things to think about.   I know you don’t understand much about me, but…….. _to me_ , communication’s a really big thing.   Not just our kind, with each other………but how we relate to other species and stuff,” Hot Rod murmured, trying to find a good way (without revealing the stuff he’d learned outright) to explain his desire to learn about their species and find a place for them in the universe.   “Take a look at Earth.   We popped up one day—some of them accepted us, some of them feared us.   Our size difference, our factions, our armour and derma was different than their soft skin— _everything about us_ was very different than life on their world.   Look at their media—not just their social media, but their entertainment media.   Look at how they picture robots in their media.”

            Optimus nodded down at him, encouraging Hot Rod to continue.

            “Okay, now let’s go a little further than that— _what about the universe?_    What do all those alien species think when they see us?   Well, it may depend on who’s seen us or not—surely species out on the frontier, where we waged combat so far from home, _they_ probably think we’re monsters.   We’ve messed up their worlds and stuff,” the flame-colored mech sighed.   “ ** _I want that to change_** —I want the universe to understand that our species aren’t just scary giant robots and mass killers.   For that, we need to open up and reveal the basics of our species to other races—and I’m starting with the Galactic Alliance.”   Then Hot Rod looked up at Optimus Prime.   “And we need to be honest with our own species, too.   The Decepticons are locked into a coding just as much as we are.   And it brings about differences, but instead of fighting about those differences—we _need_ to understand them.   The Decepticons _need_ to fight things— ** _they have to_** , it’s what they’re **_programmed_** for.   But you can bring in substitutes for that and I’m working with Galvatron’s inner circle to try and figure that out for them.”

            “Do you think you can do this, Hot Rod?”   The red-white-blue mech responded, tilting his head down at the littler mech beside him.

            “I can, but it’s just going to take time,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, warmly.  “And once the members of the Galactic Alliance understand us as a living, functioning species—not just as _‘giant robots’_ —it’s going to help us out more, as well.”   Hot Rod paused and clasped his servos together in his usual anxiety gesture.   “Look—regardless of how people see the relationship I have with Galvatron, _we’re Spark-bonded_.   I’ve seen something deep within him that is brilliant and amazing—and one day, everyone else will get to see it too.   I think the broken bond with Unicron and the time spent in the plasma pools on Thrull damaged a little bit of stuff inside of him, but I also think our Spark-bond has helped him heal some of that damage.   _Mostly_.”    The young, flame-colored mech looked up at the Autobot Leader.   “Galvatron, rather than let Cyclonus and Scourge die when Unicron did—the broken bonding— _he_ Spark-bonded with them to save them, because he knows they are important to him and what he needs to keep functioning,” Hot Rod explained, softly.

            “Megatron would **_never_** have done such a thing,” Optimus sighed, reaching up and rubbing a couple fingers along his right temple lightly.

            “That’s right, _he_ wouldn’t…………and that should further prove to you that Galvatron’s **_not_** Megatron.   He’s got a few emotional ghosts leftover in his Spark, but Unicron revamped even his Spark—it’s not even really the same Spark anymore, it’s different than a normal Transformers’ Spark,” the young, flame-colored mech answered.   “If things had gone different—if Galvatron and I had never had our………. _thing_ on that desert world—we’d still be fighting the war.   Galvatron would still suffer his processor damage and be halfway crazy, leading his Decepticons to a likely destructive ending.   I’d probably be reckless in every battle, hoping that the next one would be my last and I’d get out of my ridiculous existence.   But _that moment_ —whoever transported us to that world that one day—it changed the course of our lives, of the war and of everything.”

            And even as he said that last sentence, he felt a new realization dawn upon him.   They _never_ knew who transported them to that world.   Galvatron didn’t even really care, because once he got back to his Decepticons there was no need to think about it anymore—after something was done, it was over with to him.   But Hot Rod had always wondered about it every so often.   The _Quintessons_ wouldn’t have done it, not if there was even a remote chance that either leader would make it back to deal out some sort of revenge or punishment…………so, who would have ever done so?   Just because it looked like it may have been a Quintesson world in some ways, it didn’t immediately mean the Quintessons had done the deed.   So, who was it, then………..?

            _The Matrix?   Vector Sigma?_    But would **_they_** have had the power to do so?

            **_No_**.   Powerful objects they may be, but _neither_ had teleportation capabilities.   So it could really only be………..  

            _The Alpha Sentinel………… **Primus** …………… **Cybertron, its very self**._

            Fate had become history—and history had become the future.   Hook, even now, was revamping an already-existing Cybertronian to co-exist with an ancient Cybertronian.   Bonds were forming, forging before their very optics.   Progeny was being created.   _Everything had changed,_ all because of one moment on a deserted world between two unsuspecting beings…………!

            “I _love_ Galvatron, Optimus—and regardless of what he can or can’t feel towards me, I **_am_** very important to him,” Hot Rod whispered, looking up at the Autobot Leader with a smile on his faceplate.   “Together, the two of us are destined to change the universe for our kind.    Support me in this and I swear you will see an amazing, storybook kind of ending for the Transformers and Cybertron.”

            Optimus Prime gave a soft little chuckle and reached over to lightly pat Hot Rod on the shoulder.  “It took some time, but I’m ready to see how this will play out, Hot Rod,” the red-white-blue mech said, warmth in his vocalizer.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Galvatron met them on the landing pad as the _Thunder Arrow_ landed near the embassy.   Hot Rod kept himself physically composed as he walked up to Galvatron, grinning and radiating joy and excitement from his field.   The flame-colored mech reached up and grabbed the center tine of the bulkier mech’s tri-point crowned helm and pulled his head down for a luxurious kiss.

            “Well now, things have changed for you, I see,” Galvatron purred, pulling the littler mech close and grabbing his aft fondly.

            “I want to _fight and frag_ — ** _soon_** , but I need to fill you in on things.   We left Hook and Bonecrusher behind with some of the Autobots Optimus brought with him.   Broadside’s gonna stay, too,” Hot Rod answered, pulling away and smiling up at his powerful lover.   “These are the two adult sparklings from Jyuuishin—they’ve taken some Cybertronian names,” the flame-colored mech continued, motioning to Dai Atlas and Windblade.   The moment he’d pulled away from Galvatron, the three Mini-Cons huddled around his legs, quite happy they weren’t sharing him with the Firecons anymore.   “They’ll stay with us until they figure out what’s truly in their Sparks.”

            “I am _Daichizuchou_ , secondborn of _MH-one-five-seven_ and _CG-eight-four-two_ —with the Jyuuishin names of _Torakaidou_ and _Sakuranoito_.   You may address me as _‘Dai Atlas’_ ,” the larger mech said as he placed his servos to his side and bowed deeply.

            “My name is _Kazenoha_ , thirdborn of Torakaidou and Sakuranoito—sister to Daichizuchou—and I have chosen the Cybertronian name of _‘Windblade’_ ,” the red-and-black femme responded, steepling her servos together and bowing to Galvatron formally.

            “Welcome to Chaar—as you may see, it is still developing as well,” Galvatron responded with a polite nod.  “Captain Deszaras, what is your next destination?”  The Emperor of the Decepticons asked as he saw the familiar blue-and-grey mech disembark from his ship.

            “Hot Rod and I did some evaluating on areas still left for us to examine on the frontier and have chosen a small group of planets that we suspect may have had some combat situations on them.   Is it alright that I borrow Soundwave just a little bit longer, Lord Galvatron?”  Deszaras inquired, making a polite dip of his shoulders to the Decepticon Leader.

            “I know he has been useful to you, as well as to the Decepticon Empire and our Autobot allies, so long as you keep him safe and he still is willing to assist you, I have no issues with this,” the grey-and-purple mech responded, placing a servo on his hip and motioned with the other one as he spoke.   The gesture that Hot Rod knew was his lover’s “ _at ease_ ” pose.   “Have you had many more encounters with Starscream’s forces?”   He inquired.

            “Just a few,” Deszaras answered, handing Galvatron a datapad with his reports.   “I don’t know if we’re just going in different directions of our search for more Cybertronians or if Starscream has pulled out from the frontier entirely.   That may mean he is preparing for a big military maneuver.   I’ve begun to suspect that he may be trying to find more allies—not just Cybertronians.   He _knows_ he needs the numbers and may try to supplant his army with filler species for combat.”

            “ ** _Nnnngh_**.   _The Trylians_ ,” Galvatron growled.   “They have grown bolder as late, but the units we’ve faced say their orders come only from their Emperor.   It does not mean Starscream has not made an ally of their Emperor, however.”

            “The Earthlings have a saying:  _the enemy of my enemy may be my ally_ ,” Hot Rod said, looking up at Galvatron.   “If Starscream promises what they want—Chaar and this system—they may very eagerly work for him.   Starscream doesn’t want Chaar, _he wants Cybertron_ ………….and to destroy you, my lord,” the flame-colored mech added, frowning softly.

            “ _Even so_.   What about this titan mech?   Has he chosen to ally with us?”   Galvatron asked, looking down at his smaller lover.

            “Max and Cerebros are still figuring out this bonding thing—that’s why some people needed to stay behind on Dorn for a little while longer,” Hot Rod answered, folding his arms over his chest as he looked up into Galvatron’s faceplate.   “Whatever Max’s decision is in the end, where he chooses to live, he _has_ promised he will be our ally in the fight against Starscream—and he will come if we summon him.”

            “Then I shall accept that promise as it is said,” the Decepticon Leader responded, making a dismissive waving motion with his hand as he tossed the datapad Deszaras had given him at Cyclonus behind him.   “Cyclonus, evaluate Captain Deszaras’ reports and prepare to explain them to me later, I believe my Prime and I have other things to discuss and do.”

            “Yes, my lord,” Cyclonus sighed, carefully catching the thrown datapad.   He couldn’t complain about this, he had Galvatron’s attention all to himself the past few days while Hot Rod was gone from Chaar.

            “Sixshot, would you mind introducing Dai Atlas and Windblade to the staff?   Slipstream can help them get comfortable and find rooms,” Hot Rod said, softly.  “You three go, too—Galvatron and I prefer to do some things _alone_ , okay?”   He laughed, reaching down and patting the helms of the three Mini-Cons clustered around him.

            With a chorus of warbling from Scattor, Skyboom and Wreckage………they hugged his legs and then let go, waving to Hot Rod as they ran towards the embassy doors.

            “The human geologist is still here for one more day—so, he would like to speak with you before he leaves,” Galvatron said to Hot Rod as everyone else began to scatter and wander off.   He reached a servo down and placed it low on the flame-colored mech’s back as they turned to walk off towards an empty and desolate area past the embassy.   “ _Tonight_ , however, we shall do as we wish and enjoy much excitement in one another’s company!   You are certain you wish to spar?”  The Decepticon Leader inquired as they had finally walked far enough out that no damage would be done to anything important.

            “Yeah, I _do_ ……….” Hot Rod chuckled, warmly.   He pulled away from Galvatron and began walking backwards, grinning at his powerful lover.  “It’s been……. _well_ , closer to a decade than we might think……you know, _since everything_.   Since the day you and I were mysteriously transported to a deserted world.   Since the day I let you take my innocence and had once hoped you would kill me and end my misery……..”

            “ ** _Prrrrriiiiimmmeeee!!!_** ”  Galvatron growled, angrily, thinking he was going to have to suffer listening to Hot Rod say once more how much he hated himself.

            “You don’t need to lecture me, my lord……..I’m **_not_** in a desolate state right now!”  The flame-colored mech laughed, stretching his arms behind his back and grinning happily at the mech he loved with everything that he was.  “ _That day_ changed our lives, Galvatron—you and I were never the same after that!  I gave you stability and you gave me courage!   We gave each other so much and I am _so eternally grateful to you_ , my beloved Emperor!”  Hot Rod said, loudly, his frame suddenly backing down low and compacting into a ready battle stance.   “ ** _Everything_** I am now, I owe to the attention you’ve given me!”   He called, a note of challenge in the tone of his vocalizer.

            Galvatron felt a powerful wave of determination rippling in the littler mech’s EM field.  It was something he had not felt, _at this level_ , in a very long time—not from his little lover any time in recent years.   He ignited the thrusters in his boots and began to hover several feet above the ground, raising the arm with his nova cannon to begin charging it up.

            “Then it is good that we have come to this moment in time, my little Prime—for you have given me the true foundation for my empire!   We have truly been beneficial allies in one another’s lives, have we not?”  Galvatron chortled, grinning fiercely down at the flame-colored mech on the ground.

            “ _Most definitely, my lord!_    And **_now_** ……………?”  Hot Rod began, revving his engines.   “ ** _Let’s go for it!_** ”   He laughed, rushing forwards towards Galvatron, the piping on his arms throwing out scattered shots of energy blasts.

            As Galvatron weaved in the air to avoid the hits—which, honestly, wouldn’t do a lick of damage to him anyways!—he loosed the blast of plasma energy and watched proudly as Hot Rod dodged and changed into his alt mode.   His little Prime’s speed was a great challenge to him nowadays that he appreciated as much as Rodimus Prime’s strength had once been during their matches.   He began to charge up short volleys as the little flame-patterned racecar swerved and weaved and stirred up dust and dirt clouds to obscure Galvatron’s vision.

            Taunts were thrown and laughter resounded.   Galvatron landed on the ground to enter some hand-to-hand combat and was caught off-guard when Hot Rod weaved in low and came up practically right against his chest, one servo slamming into his arm with the nova cannon to knock a blast into the air, while the other flame-colored arm slammed into one of the Decepticon Leader’s shoulder pillars and the momentum allowed Hot Rod to knock Galvatron back onto the ground.

            Hot Rod grinned and slammed a pede on Galvatron’s chest, inching it up close to the collar fairing and neck cabling.   He whipped his photon laser out of subspace and aimed it down at Galvatron’s faceplate, grinning devilishly down at his powerful lover.

            The Emperor of the Decepticons was very pleased to see such fire flaring in the depths of his Prime—it was as if all the darkness shrouding the younger mech’s Spark had _finally_ dissipated.  He could even feel the lust for life and the determination to move forward rippling and echoing through their Spark-bond, as well as those similar emotions thoroughly suffusing his field.   Galvatron didn’t know _what_ Hot Rod experienced while he was gone for a few days, but he didn’t care and it wouldn’t matter one tiny bit if the little mech told him or not—but Galvatron was pleased that **_his true Prime_** was back.   Finally he was burning so brightly that the Decepticon Leader couldn’t help but admit that the little, flame-colored mech really _had_ stolen his Spark.

            “Bath and berth now?”  Hot Rod laughed, still keeping his photon laser aimed at Galvatron and grinning.

            “I highly doubt we shall make it out of the bath and into the berth before you overload a few times on me,” Galvatron said, roaring with laughter.

            “Did I ever say I _wouldn’t_?   I’m sure you’re _well aware_ of my stamina, my beloved Emperor,” the flame-colored mech said, finally pulling back and putting his photon laser back into its subspace pocket.   Then he reached a servo down to Galvatron.

            Not that the bulky grey-and-purple mech needed assistance to his pedes, it was merely an acquiescence to his small lover’s skill in their sparring today.   As soon as he was on his pedes, he scooped Hot Rod up into his arms and flew directly to the palace.   His little lover was getting antsy as the tub filled and Galvatron put his favorite minerals and a tolerable level of heat (for both of them) into it—leaving the jets going to circulate the water into a frothy, slightly scented bath.

            “You really _are_ aroused, are you not?”  Galvatron laughed, swiping a few fingers up the line of his little lover’s backstrut.

            “ _Seriously_ , I was aroused the moment I saw you waiting for me on the landing platform outside the embassy,” Hot Rod purred turning to Galvatron and going up to the tips of his pedes to kiss his powerful lover.  His revealed and pressurized spike rubbed eagerly against Galvatron’s groinplating.   He swiped his glossa teasingly over the Decepticon Leader’s lips, trying to part the grinning denta and mix their oral fluids excitedly.   “And I overloaded the moment I saw you charging up your nova cannon………a small one, of course, but enough to keep me on the edge.   So, you’d better _frag the hell out of me_ tonight, Galvatron!”   He laughed, softly, trying to tame his lover’s mouth and not really succeeding too well.

            “You are such a spike-tease, my sexy little Prime,” Galvatron chuckled, scooping the littler mech up and taking them both into the swirling heated pool.  He sat down on one of the inlaid stone couches and settled Hot Rod between his legs in front of him.

            “ _Dammit_ , when are you gonna………….. ** _uhhhhhnnnnnn_**!!!!!”  Hot Rod moaned as Galvatron wrapped a firm servo around his throbbing spike.   “Okay……….. ** _I_** ………… _I like this_ ………too……..” he panted softly, leaning back against his powerful lover and let Galvatron take charge of the situation.

            “I certainly hope you do,” the Emperor of the Decepticons purred softly, letting his right servo continue squeezing and stroking Hot Rod’s full spike and his left servo slid up the flames on his small lover’s chestplating to rest a palm over the Autobot symbol in the center.   He leaned his head down and began nibbling on the right edge of the sunbright yellow spoiler.

            “ _Eeeeee!_ ”  Hot Rod squealed as the sensitive sensors in his spoiler just about went crazy with sensory information—the heat of Galvatron’s glossa and the bite of the Decepticon’s edged denta made him tremble with a desire for more and more teasing.   “ _My lord…….. **oh, please** ………my lord, make me **overload** for you!_”  The littler, flame-colored mech whimpered, one of his servos covering the one of Galvatron’s on his chest, while the other went beneath the water to rest on the back of his powerful lover’s servo playing with his spike.

            “How many times shall I make you submit to my whim, Prime?”  Galvatron whispered in Hot Rod’s audial, his voice a low and deep purr of pleasure.   He felt Hot Rod tremble and grinned devilishly at his little lover’s arousal.

            “ ** _Nnngh_** ………..as many as it takes………..until you…………. ** _I_** …….. _so satisfied_ …………” Hot Rod gasped, his body bucking a little as he felt Galvatron’s grip on his servo tighten and jerk a little harder on his spike.

            “Then _let go_.   If you truly have the stamina that you always brag about, surely you can let go right now for your Emperor, can you not?”  Galvatron teased, biting again on the edge of the sunbright yellow spoiler.

            “ _Nnnnnnhhhhh……… **yessssssss** ……….._” the flame-colored mech groaned deeply, arching and digging his helm onto Galvatron’s collar fairing.   He felt his valve tighten and ripple in response to the overload, even as his full spike throbbed and jerked in Galvatron’s servo, ejaculating transfluid into the frothy water.

            Galvatron saw pale yellow charges ripple through the water as his little lover overloaded in his lap.   If there were _only_ pale yellow charges, Hot Rod wasn’t truly to his _ultimate_ arousal and overload yet—because then there’d be bolts of orange and red as well!   “Did it feel good, my sexy little Prime?”  Galvatron purred, softly, nuzzling Hot Rod’s audial area as he spoke.

            “ _Yeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh_ …………” Hot Rod panted.   “Seriously, though………I need **_more_** , _right now_ , my lord………..” he moaned, pushing himself back hard against Galvatron’s bulky frame behind him.   He wrapped his field, flaring full of need and longing around his powerful lover.

            Galvatron’s commanding field responded, full of nothing but lust and possessiveness.   Hot Rod groaned, feeling Galvatron’s pure lust almost sent him straight into another overload right away.   Then the smaller, flame-colored mech moved away from Galvatron’s lap and braced his servos on the edge of the pool, lifting his aft high and waved it teasingly at Galvatron.

            “ _Frag me, my Emperor— **hurry and frag me**!_”  Hot Rod moaned, waving his aft as tremors of pleasure rippled through his aroused frame.

            “ _Well_ …….” Galvatron began, standing up in the pool and moving close to his little lover.  “You do have a very cute little aft, it is quite hard to say no to grabbing it.   Plus there is your needy, drooling little valve—I do quite like _that part_ of you as well,” he laughed, gently rubbing his pressurized spike against the damp and lubricated lips as his servos lightly gripped the curved aft firmly.

            “ ** _Gah!_**    _Stop fragging teasing me and **frag me** , damn you_!!!”  Hot Rod screamed loudly, the rubbing of his lover’s so-familiar spike against his valve lips feeling like the ultimate motions in torture right now.

            “My, my—we _are_ rather needy tonight, are we not?”   Galvatron chortled.   “Right arm, my Prime—give it to me now,” he commanded, patting the center of the sunbright yellow spoiler as if to make the demanded request seem nicer.

            Hot Rod centered his left servo on the edge of the pool better so he could move his right arm behind his back.   He felt Galvatron bend his arm and firmly hold it pinned against his spoiler.   The ripple of ache and pain that went through his circuits and sensors teased everything inside of him into waves of pleasure.   Light bondage _always_ got him hotter, there was no denying that.   Galvatron was a mech of violence—and when he offered a more gentle form of violence like this, it was akin to a form of love.

            “ ** _UGH_** _………….why are you **not fragging me** yet?!_”  Hot Rod whined loudly as Galvatron continued to rub the length of his spike over the littler mech’s wet valve lips, sometimes teasing a light entry with the tip.   “ ** _Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!!!_** ”  The flame-colored mech sobbed, achingly as he felt Galvatron’s field full of lust and possessiveness embrace his own field.

            “ _Oh, very well!_    Here, you may have what you desire so much, my sexy little Prime!”  Galvatron roared with laughter as he used his other servo to grab up Hot Rod’s left leg behind the knee-joint and raised it high.  Even as he did so, he slammed his thick black spike into the drooling valve and began thrusting hard with it—rather enjoying the squelching sounds and the sudden mewling erupting from Hot Rod’s vocalizer.   “ _Fraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggg!!!_ ”  Galvatron hissed as he felt his smaller lover’s valve spiral tight around him, the calipers drumming rapidly right before they clamped hard down on him and prevented any further movement.   The Decepticon Leader groaned deeply as Hot Rod’s excited overload pulled an overload straight out of **_him_** , as well, his violet and grey charges mixing and rippling across both their frames and the water in the pool, as they met with charges of the colors of flames.

            _The colors of his Prime. **His beautiful, brave and sexy little Prime.**_

            Galvatron exvented sharply as he finally felt the spiraling clench of his little lover’s valve loosen and the calipers drummed a satisfied little ripple over his spike before letting go.

            “For Primus’ sake, _please tell me you’re not done_ , Galvatron………because I am still **_so fragging horny_** right now!”   Hot Rod moaned as Galvatron slowly released his arm and leg and drew the littler mech up against him, so they were both standing in the frothy heated pool.

            Galvatron’s field wrapped around him with pure possession in it.   “You are _mine_ , Prime.   **_Mine_** ,” the Decepticon Leader whispered, fiercely.   “And what in the name of the Pit are you thinking that I might possibly be done with you tonight?   I fully intend to see that your servo-motor relays are so knocked off-kilter that by tomorrow morning you will need _assistance_ walking back to the embassy!”   The powerful mech chortled, sliding a couple fingers up into the valve of his little lover as he leaned his head down to bite on the edges of the sunbright yellow spoiler.

            “ _Thank-fragging-Primus_ …………because I am certainly _nowhere_ near overloaded out!”   Hot Rod laughed, cherishing the rough bites and finger-fragging, just as much as he treasured the possessiveness in Galvatron’s field.

            Galvatron may not be able to feel love, but to Hot Rod, that feeling of possessiveness in his powerful lover’s field was pretty much the equivalent of love to him.   **_It was simply in the interpretation of things, that’s all._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as this became an A.U. early on in the events of actual "season three" of the original 1980's cartoon--there are a lot of season three episodes that never happened (or assumed may have happened in a different way). Slowly I've been bringing in the season three stuff to become the "canon" of this particular A.U.--as well as drawing in things from the successive Japanese series of the 80's/early 90's. I actually made a very obvious nod to a species-specific sentence uttered in the season four/final American episodes, "The Rebirth" in this story. *chuckle* Because it needed to happen. :)
> 
> I can tell you, with three separate series running continuously alongside each other--it's hard to "stay out" of the particular events I have happen in each of them. The observations of Primus here parallel stuff in my original "Star Voyager" work--while I decided to mention the Trylians in my ongoing IDW universe MegaRod (The Love of Romance) series. While "Star Voyager" has a more mystic interpretation of the Primes, Unicron and Primus--I've been trying to stay centered and "realistic" (as possible) here in this universe. Even so, both series feature a certain flame-colored mech rising to seize his destiny. ;)


	6. Time Flies When You're Having Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Rod decides to race while Leozak comes to a very strange understanding of his situation and the world around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah-ha-ha.............I hope there aren't too many grammatical errors. My version of Microsoft Word (ahem, 2010) that I've been typing this story in told me now that my "document is too long to correct errors"--meaning, now I have to rely on my old eyes more in my proofing. It was funny, because as soon as the pop-up window happened shortly into this chapter......then all the previous correction elements (underlines, because it really doesn't like most Transformer terms) suddenly vanished from the ENTIRE document.
> 
> Clearly you are not meant to write a novel in older versions of MS Word. XD

_ Chapter Six:   Time Flies When You’re Having Fun _

 

 

            “A few months have passed and _this_ is all I get, Onslaught—that _‘maybe’_ the entertainment district will be ready?”  Hot Rod groaned as he walked around the empty race track with the Combaticon commander and administrative direction officer.   “I **_have_ **to make sure that all of our off-world invites have a certified date on them—giving everyone time to make the plans and not just say _‘you should’ve asked sooner’_!”

            “You are merely in a tizzy because of your human friend’s upcoming bonding ceremony, Hot Rod— _don’t worry, we’ll be ready_.   Just expect a few snafus on opening day,” the tall, bulky soldier laughed warmly, lightly patting the flame-colored mech’s shoulder.

            “I’m glad you guys can be so liberal-minded about this……” the flame-colored mech mumbled, gazing at his datapad.

            “Do you plan to race on opening day?”  The Combaticon commander asked, reaching down to rub Hot Rod’s helm fondly.   “Saving a spot open for you, if you want to.”

            “Man, I haven’t raced in _forever_ ……….I probably wouldn’t even have the skills to go up against like some of the Stunticons or…….. _hell_ , even Runabout and Runamok!”   Hot Rod groaned, tossing back his head as he facepalmed himself.

            “Give it a shot, kiddo,” Onslaught said, hovering up and flying up into the stands and motioned at the track for Hot Rod to try a few laps.

            Hot Rod incycled a deep breath and put his datapad into his forearm subspace pocket.   He transformed and revved his engine.   Onslaught gave him the go and ran a timer instantly.    The flame-colored racecar powered around the track and tires squealed, but spun out a few times around the tighter of the corners on the figure-eight style track.   Hot Rod focused his determination and straightened out his pacing.   His second lap was _better_ than his first………and his third lap had him flying through the track at some of his _best pacing ever_.   After his third lap, he swerved to a halt and transformed back into his primary mode.

            Onslaught came down from the stands and landed next to the flame-colored mech.   “You really recovered from your initial first lap stumble fast,” the tall Combaticon commander chuckled, showing the datapad with the lap times.   “I think you _should_ race.   I think it’d fire Galvatron up to see you race,” he responded, grinning beneath his warrior’s facial shield.

            “I’m not sure I can win, but I think I can give the other racers some good competition,” Hot Rod chuckled, softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

            “You’ve _really_ been bolstered up—your darkness has faded a lot,” Onslaught said, softly as they continued their walkthrough of the district.

            “I think there are still some dark corners inside me and I plan to keep seeing Mindwipe regularly for my therapy sessions, so I that don’t relapse,” the flame-colored mech responded with a nod.   “But…….I feel like I finally know the direction I **_need_** to be taking in my life.   It may one day take me away from Chaar, though………..” he sighed, softly.

            “Do you feel like this place has become your home?   If so, then it will _always_ be your home—no matter how far away you must travel,” Onslaught said, rubbing Hot Rod’s helm again.   “And we owe it to you—to having shown Galvatron the way.”

            “Onslaught……….how do most of the Decepticons feel about my presence?”   Hot Rod asked, softly.   His tone was curious.

            Onslaught was concerned that the flame-colored mech might have been upset if he’d heard about the graffiti.   “I think many are ambivalent about you—like how Cyclonus feels about you, you can _be here_ or you can _not be here_.   However—most appreciate your ideas, what you’ve convinced Galvatron to do for them and that you’ve given them habitation blocks.  It’s very nice not to sleep in the dirt,” the Combaticon said, his deep voice soft and considerate, even as he was honest about how the Decepticons felt.   “But there are some that really _do_ like you—and they like the current peace with the Autobots.   They also like that you understand them and try to work with them to satisfy their programming,” he added, quietly.

            “I guess that’s better than being hated or reviled,” Hot Rod chuckled, his tone wry and serious.

            “Oh, there are also a few who’d dearly love to _frag you_ , too,” Onslaught laughed warmly.   “You have an appealing frame to a surprising number of the Decepticons here on Chaar, but nobody’s going to touch what belongs to Galvatron.”

            “ _Whoof_ ……well, I’m glad you’re honest about it.   But……..Galvatron’s really my one and only.  I can’t do the whole poly-amorous thing that everyone else does,” the flame-colored mech chuckled softly.

            “Not a single Decepticon on Chaar understands what monogamy is, Hot Rod,” the Combaticon commander responded, his tone full of amusement.   “And to be honest—in all the Decepticon history I can remember, only Starscream ever had a sense of monogamy.”

            Hot Rod stopped walking, in the middle of the hallway of the entrance for participants to the race track.

            “ _What?_    Why **_him_**?”  The flame-colored mech gasped, staring at Onslaught in shock.

            “You didn’t know?   _Mmmm._    Maybe I shouldn’t be the one to tell you, but maybe Soundwave’s the only other one around who still knows……..?”  The Combaticon commander murmured, stopping to turn and face the younger mech.   He cupped his chin, rubbing lightly at his facial shield with a thumb.   “Starscream didn’t actually join the Decepticons of his own free will.   He was a scientist and partnered with Skyfire—they did a lot of work for the Science Institute on Cybertron.   Skyfire was lost on one of their scientific research expeditions and Starscream returned to Cybertron, practically Spark-broken over it.   He returned to the Institute at the worst time, too—that was when Megatron invaded it and used his Robo-Smasher to convert whomever survived.”

            Hot Rod’s jaw went slack, his mouth parting with a little “ ** _o_** ” of surprise.

            “Starscream survived, as you know now.   There’s been a lot of speculation that something broke inside of him when he was converted by the Robo-Smasher and that’s why he is the way he is,” Onslaught continued, his tone dire and serious.   “And Megatron made him worse, by _‘claiming’_ him as he did.   You’re aware of this, I know, but Megatron Spark-bonded with a lot of individuals……..and Starscream’s one of those claims.”

            A look of deep sadness and horror showed on Hot Rod’s faceplate.   _Starscream was……..!_

            “Yes, _there_ you have it,” Onslaught said, seeing the look of dawning understanding on the younger mech’s faceplate.  “Starscream’s an utter and complete bastard—no one’s denying that—but he may not be to blame for how far he fell into his darkness.   He definitely had help becoming the bastard he is now.”

            “I know Skyfire—he’s _never_ mentioned Starscream to me………..!”  Hot Rod gasped.

            “I imagine, for Skyfire, it’s probably a _painful_ memory for him.   After all, by the time he was revived, Starscream had been converted and broken—Starscream was no longer the Starscream he remembered.   And sometimes, in cases like that, it’s better just to forget about what once was—instead of living a life of regret for what it all is now,” the Combaticon commander responded.  “ _Look_.   I didn’t tell you this to upset you or to kill your fighting spirit—but don’t let this information get in your way of how you view Starscream.  He had a chance to live again with a free system, he chose to embrace his old self and become worse that he was before.   That frame he’s in is _brand-new_ —free from the reprogramming of the Robo-Smasher and the Spark-bond he had with Megatron.   He chose to embrace the darkness this time and become the villain that everyone’s made him out to be.”

            “But it means his mental damage carried over—like **_me_** , he was mentally and emotionally suffering!   He should……….!”  Hot Rod gasped, servos clenching into fists at his sides and he stared up into Onslaught’s faceplate.

            Onslaught lightly patted Hot Rod’s helm with fondness.  “You really _do_ have a kind Spark.   Starscream chose his fate this time and I can guarantee, you can’t reach him where he’s placed himself,” he said, softly.   “He doesn’t have a Galvatron to reach in and slap him in the right direction of accepting himself—the good and the bad.   And even if you planted Skyfire right in front of him—that shuttle’s left the port, their relationship is already broken,” he added, knowing that the young mech would want to try and “ _redeem_ ” Starscream.

            “I wish I could **_try_** ,” Hot Rod murmured.

            “If you did—Starscream would do everything he can to hurt you.   Just don’t even consider it, kiddo,” Onslaught said with a sigh.  “Think about how that would affect Galvatron and everyone else around here, too.   Don’t even try it, Hot Rod—Starscream is _beyond redemption_ now.   He chose to put himself beyond redemption.”

            “I see your point, Onslaught………..it’s just that I wish I could save them all,” Hot Rod sighed.

            “There are times when you _can’t_.   And as one who was the Autobot Leader for a time—as well as someone who still accepts the responsibilities of a leader—I know that you understand there are times when you simply can’t save them all,” the Combaticon commander said, firmly.

            Hot Rod nodded and tried his best to accept this new information—and filed it away to deal with later.   Maybe one day—once he had the Matrix back—he could be strong enough to stand up to Starscream and make him see the light once more.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Stormbreaker crawled up the couple of steps to Galvatron’s throne and pulled herself up by grabbing one of the arms.   “ _Siiiiirrrrreeeee………….huuuuuuuuuuuggggggggg!_ ”   She mewled softly, holding onto the arm of the throne with one servo and making a grabby hand up at Galvatron with her other.

            Galvatron chuckled and leaned forwards, elbows on his knee-joints, grinning down at his youngest spawn.  “You can do better than _sparkling words_ , my Stormbreaker.   Now what is it you want again?”   He chortled softly.

            “ ** _Want_** _………wannnnt huuugg, siiiiiire_ ,” the femmeling said, very slowly and very carefully.

            “You do not want your kitty?”   He laughed, glancing over at where the plush ball vaguely resembling a cartoon cat rested on one of the arms of his throne.

            Her optics went exactly where Galvatron’s had gone to.  “ _Kiddy, kiddy, kiddy!_ ”   She cried, letting go of the throne and making both grabby hands up at the plush cat.   “ ** _HUUUUUUGGG!_** ”

            Galvatron roared with laughter at the short attention span his femmeling seemed to have.   “My Stormbreaker, _what_ is it that you want?   Your sire doesn’t quite understand you.   Do you wish for your sire to give you a hug or do you wish to hug your kitty?”   The Leader of the Decepticons teased mercilessly.

            “I think Lord Galvatron is having too much fun at the child’s expense,” Cyclonus mumbled as he and Novablaze just kept looking over at the two of them.   Cyclonus had been letting Novablaze read glyphs to him from reports—to see how well he was coming to recognize his Cybertronian glyphs—over in a corner of the throne room.

            “I think Stormy’s having fun, though.   Sire is weird, but he’s awesome,” the youngling said with a big grin up at the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command.   “Stormy loves sire lots and lots,” he added with a nod.  “Cyclonus……I don’t recognize _this_ glyph………” Novablaze murmured, holding the datapad up to the purple-and-grey mech.

            “ ** _Ah_**.   This is understandable—it is a _designation-glyph_ ,” Cyclonus responded, looking carefully at the glyph the youngling had pointed at.   “Designation-glyphs are unique, mechs and femmes choose them based upon glyphs that carry the meaning of their names.   In many instances there are names with a variation or multiplied meaning, such as yours.   Your name is made up of _‘nova’_ and _‘blaze’_ , which are these glyphs………” the Decepticons’ Second said, writing them both on a separate datapad.   “However, your sire came up with your designation-glyph, as he is the one who named you.   **_Your_** designation-glyph looks like this……..” he continued, writing out Novablaze’s name.   “You can see how it combines strokes and embellish marks based upon the glyphs for _‘nova’_ and _‘blaze’_.”

            “ ** _OH!_**    That is awesome!”   Novablaze gushed, realizing that probably a reason he hadn’t recognized some other glyphs was that they might be names of people.   “So, whose name is this?”   Novablaze asked, curiously.

            “It would be Onslaught.   This is a report on the race track in the new entertainment district,” Cyclonus responded.

            “Onslaught seems to do a lot more than just administrative duties in the habitation district, right?”  Novablaze asked, looking up at Cyclonus with curiosity in his optics.

            “Yes.   I suppose one of his titles might be _‘personnel delegations’_ —he puts people to work, in other words,” the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command responded with a nod.   “As the entertainment district is a new place for many jobs to open up, Onslaught has worked carefully with the construction committee to find out how many job positions will be required to open the district.”

            “Will people be able to choose their jobs or will they be assigned?”  The youngling asked, his voice a breathy sense of awe in it.

            “Many will have the opportunity to choose a job that suits them—however, if there are others who are in dire need of jobs, then they will be assigned tasks, because Lord Galvatron prefers that all Decepticons are employed and keeping out of trouble,” the purple-and-grey mech answered.

            Then the two looked back over at Galvatron and Stormbreaker to see that she had grabbed onto Galvatron’s leg and had her tiny claws dug into his right knee-joint.   She was squealing happily, so clearly the Emperor of the Decepticons was keeping his youngest spawn very busy.   Even though it clearly appeared that Galvatron was still taunting and teasing her mercilessly.

            Novablaze had a mix of feelings upon having seen this.   When he was young, he had barely interacted with his sire at all………..so seeing how Galvatron played with Stormbreaker gave him a twinge of jealousy.   However, he also felt a little protective of his younger sibling, because even he knew that some of his sire’s teasing wasn’t very…………. ** _nicely worded_**.   His carrier barely got away with lecturing his sire on child-rearing, so there would be no way Galvatron would listen to Novablaze asking him to “ _chill out_ ” or something like that.

            “Jeeze, I’m afraid to ask what kind of game he even _thinks_ he’s playing with her,” Hot Rod muttered as he entered the throne room and stood beside Cyclonus and Novablaze.

            “There are times, when our Emperor’s mentality is the equivalent of a child’s,” Cyclonus responded with a nod and a sigh.

            “ _Definitely true_ ,” the flame-colored mech chuckled.   “How are your lessons today, Nova?”  He asked, reaching down and rubbing his youngling’s helm fondly.

            “Cyclonus taught me about designation-glyphs today!   He showed me what mine was!   Cari……..what’s _yours_?   And _sire’s_?   And _Stormy’s_?”  Novablaze asked, excitedly, handing Hot Rod the writing datapad.

            Hot Rod sat down on the floor and his youngling sat next to him.  “My designation, Hot Rod, is taken from the glyphs representing _‘heat’_ and _‘speed’_ —so, this is what the designation-glyph looks like,” he said, writing the two words first and then writing the glyph representing his name.   “The glyphs representing Galvatron’s name are………..well, his isn’t a name to pull apart.   An Earth English equivalent of his name comes from _‘galvanize’_ —or _‘to put into action’_.   Galvatron’s glyphs in his designation-glyph come from _‘powerful’_ and _‘fury’_.   Cyclonus has an odd reading for his designation-glyph as well, as does Scourge,” the flame-colored mech continued, looking up at the Decepticon’s Second standing beside them.

            “The glyphs in my designation-glyph come from _‘storm’_ and _‘bringer’_.   Scourge’s designation-glyph come from the glyphs of _‘fire’_ and _‘sunder’_ ,” the purple-and-grey mech answered, coolly.

            “So, when you look at Storm’s designation-glyph, which I gave to her, as I named her……..it has a slight similarity in some ways to Cyclonus’—as the glyphs representing her designation-glyph come from _‘storm’_ and _‘slayer’_ ,” Hot Rod said, continuing to write the glyphs as he spoke about them.   “As you can tell, we have a slight difference in our writing and naming than other races.   Where most choose their names based upon something and have the words to represent it, Cybertronians have designations that are a combination of two or three glyphs representing an idea of their name.   So every designation-glyph will be different………even ones with similar glyphs, you’ll find have a completely different pronunciation of their names—or vice versa, mechs or femmes with similar names will have completely different glyphs because of the combination of glyphs that represent the idea of their name.”

            Novablaze was in awe—the “ _idea_ ” of a name was a very high-level concept, but he thought he might understand the meaning of it.   He wondered how hard it was to learn everyone’s designation-glyphs—there were many names of many Cybertronians everywhere……..that would be so very much to remember!

            “Cari………..how come there are words and there is an alphabet?”  Novablaze asked, curiously.

            “Alphabet is for simple signage.   And, though it’s a rarity in our species, there are a few who are illiterate.   You’ve seen that the Terrorcons can’t read or write, you watching television with them has helped them get better, but they probably will never have a very high literate level because of the way they were programmed,” Hot Rod answered.   “A regular glyph-based language is for the fully literate of our kind, but the alphabet was developed for simple naming for those who have literacy issues.”   Then he paused and stood up.   “Back on Earth, there were cultures like that.   The Japanese culture, for a very long time, had no written language—they borrowed their _‘kanji’_ from the Chinese.   Then they later created hiragana and katakana for their low-literate citizens, as well as for children to learn before they could learn kanji.   Kanji are words, but hiragana and katakana are alphabets—do you remember the difference between katakana and hiragana, Nova?”

            “Ummmm………..hiragana was used to represent native language and katakana was used to represent foreign words, right?   Then there would be _‘furigana’_ —the use of hiragana subtitling to help children read kanji properly,” Novablaze responded, grinning up at Hot Rod.

            “Very good!  Just remember, all languages have different basics and different levels of complexity—from our own, or Earth’s myriad languages or even the many languages spoken throughout the universe,” the flame-colored mech said, grinning back down at his youngling.   “As the Galactic Alliance formed, they created _‘galactic standard’_ —taking the most simplest forms of many languages to create one for everyone to use with each other.”

            “Whoever did that must have really wanted people to talk to each other,” the youngling said with admiration in the tone of his voice.

            “ _Communication is the greatest thing for all_ —if we can’t communicate, the universe would fall apart,” Hot Rod answered, smiling and reaching down to rub the purple-and-yellow youngling’s helm fondly.   “That’s what I want more than anything—for us to communicate with the universe, as well as for Autobots to communicate properly with the Decepticons.”   Then Hot Rod gazed fondly over towards the throne, but then immediately facepalmed himself as he watched Galvatron holding the plush cat just out of reach and Stormbreaker was squealing and mewling as she tried to reach up and grab it from him.   “Seriously, Galvatron?   _What the hell?!_ ”  The flame-colored mech groaned, stomping over towards them.

            “It is merely for fun and amusement, my Prime—she is unharmed and unperturbed by this,” Galvatron answered with a deep frown.  He gave the femmeling the plush cat and then she plopped down onto her aft right by his pedes and purred happily, hugging the thing.   “Honestly, you spoil them too much,” the bulky purple mech added with a frown.

            “ ** _I_** spoil them, hunh?   You’ve totally spoiled this little brat,” Hot Rod chuckled, sitting on one of the steps of the throne and patted Stormbreaker’s helm fondly.

            “ _Carrrrrriiii!  Huuuuuugggg!!_ ”  The little femme said excitedly, setting her kitty aside and raised up her arms with servos making grabby hands at him.

            Hot Rod scooped her up and gave her a long and comforting hug, fully and completely with love in his EM field around her.   “So, Galvatron—Onslaught thinks I should enter the opening day race.   What do _you_ think?”   The flame-colored mech asked, turning his head to look up at the Decepticon Leader curiously.

            “ _You should do so!_    I _know_ you are fast—I have seen you use your speed against me!”  Galvatron said, leaning forwards and propping his elbows on his knee-joints and twined his fingers together.   “If you are concerned you are not in shape for such a thing, then you should go out into the uninhabited areas of Chaar and race to your heart’s content.”

            “I’d need someone to practice with,” Hot Rod murmured, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck with one servo as he held onto his femmeling with his other arm.   “The Stunticons may not appreciate my slowness and I’m not sure Runamok or Runabout would take me seriously.   Maybe I’ll call Blurr— _if_ he’s still on speaking terms with me, that is.   I don’t think we’ve talked since……….well, since I was Rodimus Prime, I guess.”

            “Those two mechs _never_ take anyone seriously, I highly doubt if it is anything personal, my Prime,” Galvatron said, firmly, indicating Runamok and Runabout.   “And if Autobots are still not speaking with you—you are quite welcome to remove your brand and repudiate the Autobots.”

            “As much as you’d love me to do that, my lord—you know that I am an Autobot through-and-through,” Hot Rod chuckled, leaning over and resting his head against Galvatron’s knee-joint, even as he felt Stormbreaker fall into a recharge cycle against his own chest.   “Besides……….there is that _‘someday’_ and you know what I mean.”

            Galvatron reached down and stroked the red helm fondly.   “ _Yes_.  In fact, I very much look forward to that _‘someday’_ —even if it means a parting of ways.   Chaar will always be here for you to come to, even if your path takes you elsewhere in the universe, my precious Prime,” the Decepticon Leader murmured very softly, so that only Hot Rod could hear him.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Leozak was puzzled to be called into a small conference room by only the Quintesson Biologist, Raj-ur-Malekk—without Starscream anywhere in sight or even within feeling range of EM fields.

            “ _Have_ …………have I done something wrong, Lord Malekk?”  The leader of the attack force asked nervously, shifting on his pedes.

            “You haven’t done anything wrong, child—though Starscream feels you might,” the Quintesson responded, waving a tentacle dismissively at the teal-and-white mech.

            Leozak’s vocalizer felt strangled, constricted—like he couldn’t get any words out or anything.

            “You need not look worried, child.   **_I_** am not concerned over your loyalty—or disloyalty, as Starscream feels you may be plotting,” the old Quintesson chuckled softly.   “I am old and have seen many, many things in my long lifetime.   Starscream is still locked in his mentality that everyone around him will betray him.”   Raj-ur-Malekk hovered over to a table and picked up a datapad.   “This makes our alliance difficult.   Despite many things I have done for him to bolster his position, he _still_ sees betrayal all around him.   I wish to see a new turn out to things with our old creations, so I would like to keep fanning his flames, but should it all backfire—then I am one who is used to failure in my long life.”

            Leozak shuffled his pedes some more and reached a servo up to rub at the back of his neck.  “ _Am_ ……..am I a disappointment to you, too?”  He mumbled, confused at the roundabout way the Quintesson biologist was speaking.

            “You are not, child.   The thing you must understand is that, you have a purpose and you are still working upon fulfilling it.   Success or failure is not what defines you, but whether you have chosen to do what you feel you must,” Raj-ur-Malekk said, waving the datapad without real purpose.   “Living beings live in a web of all life—what you do affects others around you.   If Starscream keeps distancing himself and will not try to trust anyone, he will be very alone and the strand of the web he belongs to shall become isolated.”

            “ _And you?_ ”  Leozak asked, still confused.

            “I know my place on this web.   I understand success and failure—and continuing on past all of that,” the Quintesson Biologist laughed softly.   “And I believe that little flame-colored mech that Galvatron cherishes so much has come to understand his place in this web of life.   That is what _you_ must do.   _Find your place._    You are strong and finally beginning to come into your true skills.   I admire how you have chosen to adapt your assist-mech, you have _weaponized_ it!”   He praised, hovering towards the teal-and-white mech and reaching up a tentacle to pat him on the helm fondly.

            “Do you care about _any_ of us?”  The commander of the strike force asked, softly.

            “Such a loaded question!   And I guarantee you quite likely won’t care for the answer, but…….. ** _no_** , I _don’t_ really care about any of you.  _Not at all._    I don’t even care about Starscream,” the Quintesson laughed diabolically.  “I don’t even actually care about myself, my life has been _too long_.   I merely do what I can to keep on getting through each day.”

            “It must be……… _difficult_ to live for so very long, I think,” Leozak murmured.   “Lord Malekk—where has Lord Starscream gone?”   He asked, curiously.  The commander of the strike force wondered why the Quintesson was being so open in attitude like this—he felt that Raj-ur-Malekk simply wouldn’t speak about these things if Starscream had been around.

            “He has decided to indulge a little personal pet project and take some new recruits out for a spin.  He’ll be gone for a little while,” Raj-ur-Malekk answered.   “You’ve been doing quite well training your own squad—why don’t you start training some of the other soldiers, too?”

            “Do you think it would be all right?   Lord Starscream wouldn’t……… ** _umm_** , _you know_ , think that I’m trying to rally the Destrons _against him_ , would he?”   The teal-and-white mech asked, his optics following the Quintesson as he hovered around the room.

            “He already believes you’ve done so with the strike force—though, honestly, if you could get Hellbat to follow your orders, _that’d_ be a sheer miracle,” the Quintesson Biologist laughed.   “Just do some combat training.   I find your style honest and refreshing.   Underhandedness has purpose, but sometimes combat simply must be done in a straightforward manner.”   Then Raj-ur-Malekk drifted back by Leozak and patted his helm again with a tentacle.   “What did you see when you recharged last night?”   He asked curiously.

            The question took Leozak by surprise, though he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he was even being watched during recharge.   His dream last night had been incredibly strange.   And where he normally didn’t remember his recharge dreams when he woke up—this one had been very vivid and he remembered it even now.

            “I remember fire and fighting, really—like the most violent of all combat, maybe?   _An apocalypse maybe?_    But the fire…………it was burning so brightly and seemed to be separate from the combat,” Leozak murmured, trying to describe something that was completely indescribable to him.   “ _And then_ …………a Spark, I think.   More than one Spark?   Several Sparks, of different colors………..up in the sky?   _It was strange_ ………” the teal-and-white mech trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a servo.   But his feelings were harder to put into words………..he felt like **_his_** Spark should have been there, with those others.   Even though Leozak didn’t know who those Sparks were, he felt he needed to be there _with them_.   “It was really _weird_.   It’s not a premonition, is it?   That the big attack we’re planning on Chaar will fail?   _I **don’t** want it to fail!   I want us to **win**!   So that I can prove how **loyal** I am to the cause!_”   He cried, desperately.

            “As long as you keep that enthusiasm, **_I_** have no concerns over your loyalty, Leozak,” Raj-ur-Malekk chuckled.   “While you are working on training the others, please make use of Rawjaw.   I am afraid that while I’ve had many projects upon my tentacles of late, I have not had much need to make use of his assistance or skills.   He may not speak much but a smattering of Old High Cybertronian, but he understands all languages and glyphs both modern and ancient.   He makes a good secretary and he is also a capable warrior in his own right.”

            Just as the Quintesson Biologist said that, the modified Sharkticon bodyguard entered the room and made some mutters and grunts in the ancient language.

            “ _Do not pout, Rawjaw_.   You have taken to eating some of the other Sharkticons because you are **_bored_** —Leozak will keep you from getting bored and eating any more of the frail brethren in the swamps,” Raj-ur-Malekk said, firmly, slapping the modified-Sharkticon hard on the head.

            Leozak had a hard time keeping anxiety out of his EM field—did the Quintesson just say that Rawjaw had _eaten other Sharkticons_ , simply because he was bored?!   What if Leozak couldn’t keep the Sharkticon busy enough and Rawjaw decided it would be okay to gnaw on **_him_** , instead???   But then, seeing the powerful Sharkticon admonished like a child and ducking his head submissively before the Quintesson Biologist was something of another kind of surprise, too.

            “Rawjaw—will you help me train some of the other Destrons?”  Leozak asked, trying to keep the worry out of the tone in his vocalizer.

            The Sharkticon bodyguard grunted and muttered in ancient Cybertronian and nodded his helmed head.   He pulled a staff out from subspace and held it out, grunting softly—then twirled it quite masterfully.   As Rawjaw brought it to a stop, one end aimed at Leozak, the tip of the staff opened into a crown and electrostatic charges jumped along the tines.

            “You’re really good with that weapon, is that the only one you can use—or can you use others?”  The teal-and-white mech asked, curiously.

            Rawjaw grunted and snapped his jaws tightly.

            “ _Uhhh_ …….?”  Leozak murmured, not quite getting it.

            “Rawjaw is an **_Alpha Predator_** in his alt mode.   You’ve seen nightmarish beasts of something that is part-reptilian, part-shark?   _That_ is what Rawjaw’s alt mode is.   His teeth are a very powerful weapon in that form and his jaw strength is unmatched,” Raj-ur-Malekk said, something of a proud tone to his voice.   “Like several of your kind, he has a size-compression protocol when changing from one mode to another.   He is nowhere near as big as Scorponok—but he might give Liokaiser a challenge in size,” the Quintesson Biologist chuckled.

            It suddenly became evident how it came to be that Rawjaw was eating _other Sharkticons_.   If his alt mode was **_that large_** , the normal Sharkticons rambling about this planetoid’s swamps and ponds would be like an Energel snack to a Cybertronian!    If Raj-ur-Malekk had followers like this……..then what was he doing fueling Starscream’s little war?   If the Quintesson Biologist wanted to terrorize things—clearly his troops and other comrades had the capabilities to do so!   Was the ancient Quintesson really just doing all this…….. ** _just for fun_**?

            “ _Okay_.   Let’s go train some Destrons,” Leozak chuckled, motioning for Rawjaw to follow him to the main lounge area where they’d see who might be up for a few challenges.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Optimus Prime looked down at the report from Bumblebee.

            “Is this right?  There are monsters attacking Los Angeles?”   The Autobot Leader asked, carefully.   “It isn’t some kind of stunt on the part of one of their entertainment conventions, is it?”

            “Daniel and his fiancée are at AnimeConvergence right now in the city and he says it’s definitely _not_ one of their stunts!”   Bumblebee responded.   “I’d probably take Daniel’s word on things over general newsreports sometimes.”

            Optimus Prime turned on the intercom to Metroplex and announced that he wished for the Aerialbots to report to the landing pad right away.   He and Bumblebee immediately began walking there.   Then he comm-linked the Technobots and asked for their assistance as well.

            “Silverbolt—I’d like for you and the Aerialbots to go on ahead to Los Angeles to assess the situation and to try and curb the assault if you can,” Optimus said, firmly.   “Technobots—you are all with me as we take the freeway to get there as best as we can.   I’ve asked for California’s highway patrol to begin clearing the interstate for us, so that we can get there fast.”

            “We’re on our way, Optimus!”  Silverbolt responded, motioning for the Aerialbots to all transform and then they took off at fast speeds to get to L.A. as soon as possible.

            “ _Autobots!   Transform and roll out!_ ”   Optimus commanded sharply.   Bumblebee transformed alongside his leader, as did Jazz……..and the ground transport members of the Technobots.   Scattershot mag-clamped Nosecone and flew off with him and Strafe immediately, following the Aerialbots’ trail.

            While the ground-bound Autobots sped off on the freeways of California, Optimus Prime got a re-routed phone call from Daniel Witwicky who was in the heart of the madness, it seemed.

            “You’re not going to like this, Optimus—but you **_need_** to call Galvatron.   Because it’s _Starscream_ who’s here!”   Daniel snapped.   “And if you don’t do that and Galvatron finds out you didn’t inform him of Starscream’s presence, he’s going to go ballistic with you!”  The young human added.

            “By the time Galvatron arrives, we will likely have routed them all, but I’m sending a glyph to Hot Rod right now,” the Autobot Leader responded.   “It will be the fastest way to get a response from Galvatron…….”

            “I’m not sure about these guys he’s got with him though—they all look like flesh-type monsters,” the young human reported, frowning deeply into the camera eye of his phone.   He had some kind of costume on and……..makeup?   The ways of Earthlings still puzzled Optimus sometimes!   The capabilities of human advancements of technology since before Optimus Prime’s death had really come a long way—for them to be able to use phones for video calling now, too!   “Do you think he’s recruiting non-Cybertronians now?”  Daniel asked, a little worried.

            “It would not surprise me.   Starscream needs to find ways to fill in gaps in his army—since he’s going against **_both_** Autobots and Decepticons.   As it stands, regardless of whom he’s already recruited from the frontier—he’s _still_ outnumbered,” the Autobot Leader responded.

            “The Aerialbots and Scattershot, with Nosecone and Strafe, just arrived,”  Daniel reported.   “I’ll call you back if anything changes.”

            “Bumblebee, Jazz………you two move on ahead—it looks like the California Highway Patrol managed to get traffic flow moved aside or detoured.   Roll out at your top speeds!   Technobots, follow them to the critical point!”   Optimus commanded, pulling back as he braked his system to slow down a little and let the others get ahead of him.   Then he read the response glyph from Hot Rod.

 

**|Galvatron is thrilled and he’s on his way.   I’m coming along, too, just to make sure he doesn’t go overboard on Earth.|**

 

**|Make sure to tell Galvatron we may have finished combat by the time you arrive.|**

 

**|Unless Starscream has transwarp drive, we’ll probably catch him leaving the planet.|**    Then there was a second glyph just as quickly as that one.  **|Galvatron tells me his flagship does have transwarp drive.   Damn Quintesson technology.   We’ll be there soon.   We’ll take the warp gate that’ll drop us off inside the asteroid belt.|**

 

            As soon as the glyph responses were wrapped up, Optimus opened up his engines full throttle and powered down the freeways with a roar, in the wake of his fellow Autobots.    Soon enough, they were all in downtown Los Angeles, which was in complete chaos.

            “ _Hmmm._    You Autobots do respond quick nowadays, don’t you?”   Starscream laughed.   “Guys—it looks like our fun has been spoiled, _let’s move on!_    Back to the _Shadowstalker_ , everyone!”   The Destron commander snapped.   He swiveled around in the air to fly back to his flagship, only to be confronted by Galvatron.

            “Going somewhere, Starscream?”  The Leader of the Decepticons chortled, raising a servo and flexing the fingers so that the joints popped and cracked in a threatening tone.

            “ _Why, yes!_    I’ve had some fun today and I thought my kids and I would finally head home for a nap,” Starscream laughed, reaching back and pulling his sword out of subspace.   “Come now, the kids are tired after their day of playing—just let us get back into our vehicle and go home.   As a dad yourself, you know exactly what I mean, right?”   The Destron commander teased, even though every inch of his posture was ready for combat.

            “I am _not playing_ , Starscream—and this is where I shall finally finish you off!”  Galvatron roared, boosting his thrusters forwards to grab at Starscream.   He spun and brought his cannon up to block the sword as Starscream swept to the side, out of his attack path.   He thrust out his other servo and grabbed one of Starscream’s wings, while he readjusted his other arm so he could try to grab Starscream around the throat.

            **_That_** didn’t work as Galvatron had planned.

            And Starscream knew if Galvatron grabbed his wing and pulled hard enough—it would hurt tons more than it should have.   He thought fast and cut through his wing tip with his sword before he even stopped to think about it and pushed away from Galvatron quickly.   Galvatron grumbled and crumpled the small bit of metal in his servo before dropping it to the ground.   Starscream gave a light little series of exvents to work through the pain—his wings were extremely sensitive, designed to gauge air composition and wind so he could fly better.   The sharp pain from the cutting localized into a light and constant throbbing, making Starscream frustrated.

            “ _Coward_ ,” the Leader of the Decepticons hissed, angrily.

            **_Meanwhile, on the ground…………_**

            “I’m getting EM fields from these guys,” Hot Rod said, looking down at Bumblebee, his body tensed for a fight.   “There’s something _very weird_ about this—organics don’t put out an EM field on a level of a Cybertronian.”

            Bumblebee raised his small rifle and braced it on a forearm, aiming at a monster that looked like a green-and-lavender gargoyle of some kind.   “You don’t think Starscream’s Quintesson ally could make an _organic-type of Transformer_ , do you?”   He asked, firing off a shot that pierced the wing, but did nothing more than make the monster hiss at them angrily.   It still seemed intent on chewing on the motorcycle it had in its claws.

            Hot Rod looked up to see the Aerialbots either using cover fire on their allies on the ground, or chasing after a Vulture-like monster in the air.   He glanced around to see the Technobots working on protecting the human crowds.   Optimus Prime and Jazz were fighting two of the other monsters.   Galvatron had instructed Cyclonus and his troops to remain on his flagship—to watch for any other movements from the Shadowstalker, or to block Starscream’s retreat immediately.

 

**|Nosecone—let me borrow your expertise for a moment!|**

 

            Hot Rod sent the glyph-message with his designation-glyph attached to it to the Technobot’s analyst and saw the brown-and-yellow mech turn his head in his direction.   Nosecone jogged over to where Hot Rod and Bumblebee were trying to stop the strange lavender-and-green monster from eating the motorcycle it had.

            “What are these guys composed of?   Have you scanned them?”   The flame-colored mech asked, his tone sounding very leader-like, as when he’d once been Rodimus Prime.

            “I hadn’t had a chance to do so, as yet—Scattershot had us on protecting and evacuating the humans once we got here,” Nosecone answered, tilting his head with puzzlement.   He turned towards the weird-looking gargoyle-like creature and refocused his optics with various scanning settings going.   “ ** _Oh my!_**    Hot Rod, I’m afraid I cannot get an accurate reading on this monster.   I am getting about fifty-percent of an organic reading, but also fifty-percent of a Cybertronian reading on it.”

            “You don’t think that the Quintesson really managed to make a _hybrid organic-Transformer_ , do you?”   Bumblebee gasped, lowering his rifle and looking up at the flame-colored mech.

            “I’m not sure I can rule out anything when it comes to this Raj-ur-Malekk guy.   As a Quintesson, his specialty was in biology and when we first encountered him, it was at that Leadership Conference………..and he said he was there gathering data on the myriad species in the Galactic Alliance that were represented there,” Hot Rod answered with a frown.

            All of the sudden, a large black-and-grey Cybertronian wearing Starscream’s Destron brand, landed between the strange-looking gargoyle-like monster and the three Autobots.

            “Look, you heard Starscream’s orders, _fool_ —he **_ordered_** you to get back to the _Shadowstalker_!”  The black-armoured mech snapped, aiming a large concussion rifle at the three Autobots as he glanced over at the monster.

            “This food is _crunchy_.  I want more,” the monster complained.

            All of the sudden, all three Autobots’ weapons trained on the large, heavily armoured mech.

            “I _don’t care_ what you want.   Get back to the ship, _now_!”  The mech snarled.   “You’ll have to forgive my little friend there—he’s never been to this tiny planet before,” he chuckled, grinning at the three Autobots.

            “Neither have you,” Hot Rod said, his tone low and serious.

            “Very true—and **_you_** must be Hot Rod,” the grey-and-black Destron laughed.   “You may address me as _Sky Shadow_.”

            “ _Not a pleasure_ ,” the flame-colored mech snorted.

            “ _Definitely not a pleasure_ ,” Bumblebee echoed, his voice low.

            “What can I say, then?   Now, if you’ll excuse us……….” Sky Shadow chuckled, stepping back, grabbing the monster by the scruff of the neck and flying away with it.

            “ ** _Hnnngh_**.   Let’s assess the damage and situation,” Hot Rod said, looking around to find some human law enforcement officers of some sort.

            “ _Big bro!_ ”   A familiar voice called.

            If Hot Rod hadn’t recognized Daniel Witwicky’s voice, he’d have never have realized that the strangely-dressed human male were his very best friend in all the universe.   “ _What the hell_ are you wearing, Danny?”   Hot Rod groaned, facepalming himself.

            Just then, Galvatron landed beside him, grumbling and muttering under his breath.

            “Got away?”  The flame-colored mech asked, reaching up to pat his lover’s faceplate fondly.

            “ _The coward_ ,” the purple-and-grey mech growled.

            “Amber and I are here at AnimeConvergence—remember, I _told you_ we cosplay at these things!”   Daniel laughed.   “We’re characters from this superhero anime that’s really popular right now.”

            “Is Amber safe?”  Hot Rod asked with concern, kneeling beside the human youth.

            “Yeah, I made sure she evacuated with everyone else,” Daniel answered, folding his arms across his chest.   “I stuck around with the emergency crew to wait for the Autobots to show up and update Optimus on any changes in what was happening here.”

            “And he _let_ you?”  Hot Rod laughed, warmly.

            “And _I’d_ let him stop me?”  Daniel laughed in response.

            Hot Rod stood back up and rubbed the back of his neck with a servo.   He turned to Galvatron, who seemed to be in his own little world where he was stewing in his anger.   He walked over and grabbed Galvatron’s chin to get his lover’s attention.   The red optics focused and looked down at him, though Galvatron merely gave a little grunt of acknowledgement.

            “Nosecone did his best to analyze the one monster we were near and while he couldn’t get complete details, he did find out they were half-Cybertronian and half-organic,” Hot Rod said, looking around at everyone, just as Optimus Prime walked up to them.  “Any speculation on that?”   He asked, looking up, especially at Optimus and Galvatron.

            “ _I do not care what they are, my Prime_ ,” Galvatron grunted, still very annoyed he did not have a chance to finish off Starscream.

            “Perhaps there was something that was throwing off your scanners, or blocking them from getting a full reading—a shield of some sort?”   Optimus Prime inquired, glancing down at Nosecone.

            “It’s possible.   I know I couldn’t even get a chemical composition of the monster—and if it were fully organic or fully Cybertronian, I could get you a detailed chemical and metal composition,” the Technobot analyst responded with a shrug of his shoulders.   “I wish I did have more details, because then Perceptor and I could puzzle them out.”

            “Let’s return to Metroplex and try to figure out this a little more,” Optimus said.

            “C’mon— _you_ , too, Galvatron,” Hot Rod said, reaching up and grabbing two of the tines on his tri-point crowned helm.

            “I simply wish to return to Chaar if there is nothing more for me to do here,” the Decepticon Leader grunted.

            “Not yet—I _need_ you to be here to talk this out a little bit, my lord.   **_Please_** ,” Hot Rod said, his voice suggesting desperation and wanting.   “Glyph Cyclonus—tell him we’ll return to the ship in a few hours, okay?”

            “We shall stay here for _six hours_ —that will satisfy you, my little Prime.   I shall send Cyclonus back to Chaar, should something happen while we are away,” Galvatron grunted.   “Then Optimus shall give us passage to Cybertron after this, because I believe you have something to ask of someone on Cybertron—is this not correct?”

            Hot Rod’s faceplate erupted into a very happy smile, with very bright optics.   Galvatron remembered that the flame-colored mech wanted to speak to Blurr, about race-training with him.   For Galvatron to be so generous with himself and his time— _that was amazing!_    And Hot Rod cherished that very much.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            After two hours, Galvatron was too bored by the topics of conversation that he dismissed himself to go for a walk outside Metroplex.   Hot Rod felt awkward letting Galvatron go off alone, so he politely dismissed himself about ten minutes later.   He searched for his powerful lover by trying to get a sense of Galvatron’s massive EM field, but………it seemed to be eclipsed by Metroplex’s field.   He’d forgotten what it was like, being around a city-mech like Metroplex—how it dampened the feel of every normal Cybertronian’s fields around him.

            “Do you know what direction Galvatron went, Metroplex?”  Hot Rod asked, standing underneath the door way and watched the rain fall outside.

            “He went straight out these doors, Prime,” the city-mech answered in a soft voice.

            And if Metroplex said “ _straight out_ ”—it meant that Galvatron very literally walked in a straight line out the doors.   Hot Rod soon found Galvatron about a mile away, standing in an open meadow and looking up into the sky, rain running in rivulets on his purple armour and grey derma.   The crimson glass coverings over the optics was completely dim—so Galvatron’s optics were shuttered, he wasn’t actually “ _looking_ ” up into the sky.

            “My Emperor………are you all right?”  Hot Rod asked, softly, simply standing next to his powerful lover and not reaching out to touch him—just in case Galvatron was in a mood of some sort.

            “That coward _always_ slips through my fingers.   _Always_ ,” Galvatron grunted, softly.   “Thank you for making me remain here with you.   I feel that if I returned to Chaar, someone would be blasted and someone else would be rage-fragged……….and neither of those things would alleviate the fury inside of me.”   Then Galvatron’s head came down, the crimson glass brightened as the optics came online, and he looked at Hot Rod.   “You know me better than I even know myself, anymore—it is puzzling and, yet, appreciated,” he said, wrapping an arm around the littler flame-colored mech and pulling him close.

            “Starscream knows just when to retreat—it’s a tactical thing he’s got a lot of experience with,” Hot Rod sighed, leaning his head against Galvatron’s chest fondly.   “ _I dunno_.   Something about those monsters he had just bothers me.   But we’ll need more information, I guess.”

            “I appreciate all of this.   Do not think that I am unaware of how important tactical information is.   It is just not my thing to dwell upon.   Please share your data with Cyclonus when we return to Chaar,” Galvatron said, turning their frames so that Hot Rod was up against his front and he was gazing down into the littler mech’s blue glass-covered optics.

            “Got it, my lord,” Hot Rod chuckled, the tone in his vocalizer warm and happy.   “ _Hey. **Um**._   I was thinking and……… _I dunno_ , maybe I could change my mind again sometime soon……..but if we ever manage to deal with Starscream and get back to some kind of _‘peace’_ or whatever.  _Um_ ……I wanna have another sparkling with you.”

            “But not as of now, correct?”  Galvatron responded with a light chuckle, his claws digging into the littler mech’s aft fondly.

            “ ** _No_**.  I mean, _look_ ……….I’d like to see what we can forge together when we both plan it.   But I don’t want it now.   Not while all this is going on,” Hot Rod sighed, burying his faceplate in Galvatron’s chestplating.   “We’ve got a smart mechling and a cute little femmeling.   Not that we could do better than either of those little brats, but………..I’ve loved being a carrier.   I’ve loved feeling the new life growing inside of me.   I’ve cherished that it’s life I forged with you— _the mech I love with all of my Spark_.”

            “And you enjoy being fragged senseless when your protocols demand it from me so incessantly,” the Leader of the Decepticons laughed, nuzzling the top of his little lover’s helm.

            “There’s _that_ , too,” the flame-colored mech laughed, wrapping his arms tighter around Galvatron’s frame.  Then he let his servos drift to his powerful lover’s hip plating.   “And I like a bit a data-‘facing, as well.”

            Galvatron’s hip panels opened at the oddly-phrased plea.   He heard the soft snap of Hot Rod’s hip panels opening, too and let the little flame-colored mech plug in the cords of his data-interfacing equipment all by himself.  The two mechs allowed their optics to shutter and go offline as they focused solely on what was within one another’s programs.

            Galvatron’s program ghost chased the swift program ghost belonging to the flame-colored mech within his arms.  Teasing programs and protocols as he swept through the systems in his chase……..heating up both of their systems to a sharp desire and powerful wanting.   The Emperor of the Decepticons saw a tease of memories from Hot Rod’s last interaction with the Matrix—reconfirming an undefined future where the little mech would once become Rodimus Prime again.   And the odd conversation of this “ _Alpha Sentinel_ ” thing—which Galvatron didn’t quite understand what it all was.   Well, if he did not understand it—it was unimportant until his sexy little Prime could take the time and try to explain why it should be important to Lord Galvatron, ruler of all the Decepticons.

            After catching and sublimating the teasing flame-colored program ghost, Galvatron pulled out of the data-interfacing, satisfied and his frame deciding to take it all to the next level, as they always did.   He gazed down into the littler mech’s faceplate, which was tilted up towards him and slack with his influx of pleasure through his systems.   Galvatron swept his servos through the cords and completely disconnected them from the data-interface.   Hot Rod’s optics glowed brightly as he came back to awareness in the real world around them.

            Before the slack-jawed expression could fully dissipate from his little Prime’s faceplate, Galvatron dove in and kissed Hot Rod hard, immediately thrusting his glossa inside the open mouth and playing with his lover’s own glossa as oral fluids mixed.   Hot Rod didn’t even care where they were right now……….he knew they were about to frag and _that_ made him happy.   He didn’t even care that they were in the rain—their frames slowly sinking into trodden wet grass and mud smearing their pedes and boots.

            There was a soft squishing of the wet ground as Galvatron lifted Hot Rod’s aft off the ground and held him firmly by the hips.   The flame-colored mech felt water and mud dripping and swirling all over his spoiler and he moaned softly at the sensations assailing him.   He looked up at Galvatron, just as lightning flashed in the sky above his lover’s crowned helm—to his lust-addled brain, it made Hot Rod think of his powerful lover as almost a celestial being.

            _Once upon a time, a young Autobot Prime found himself stuck on a world with the powerful Emperor of the Decepticons.   The young Prime fell in love with his powerful rival and found a way to stand at his longed-for-lover’s side.   Almost a decade ago, the Emperor and the Prime found a way to forge something new for their fellows and their lives.   And even now, they continued to forge even more—until a future would come that would redefine a universe._

            Hot Rod reached up a servo, brushing the chin of his powerful lover as he felt Galvatron’s spike slide into his valve and begin pumping and thrusting hard.   Galvatron grinned down at him, showing sharpened incisor dentae and leaned his chin into his little lover’s palm, feeling the fingers curl around edges of his faceplating with contentment.   Above them, the rain poured down even harder and lightning flashed more rapidly, with deep resounding booms of thunder a few seconds later.   Quite the appropriate soundtrack for their lovemaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two very important plot-thingies introduced in this chapter (three actually), even though it seems like it might just be a "filler chapter".
> 
> There will still be a minimum of at LEAST two more chapters--though I make no promises on that number. XD
> 
> As always, I thank you all for reading and leaving comments when you can/feel like it/have time! :D


	7. Monsters and Bugs and Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Startling developments in just who has joined the Destron Army now...........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Greatshot from "Transformers: Victory". Maybe someone can confirm or deny this for me, but in the IDW comics James Roberts used as Thunderclash a character who looked to be a recoloring of Greatshot. I know European countries often got the 80's/90's figures that America did not from these Japanese series--so, I guess I'm curious to know if Thunderclash was a recolor/rename of Greatshot from "Victory"? Anyone out there know for sure? :)
> 
> Also, regarding this particular character--now in "Victory" Greatshot often clashed with Blue Bacchus and Black Shadow (American renamed as Sky Shadow), so that's kind of my motivation for suddenly pairing them here.

_ Chapter Seven:   Monsters and Bugs and Children _

 

 

            “I’m always glad to see you Hot Rod, but why are you here?”   Ultra Magnus asked, curiously, giving Galvatron a brief glance.    The unspoken question was: “ _Why did you bring Galvatron to Cybertron?_ ”, of course.

            “I’m looking for Blurr, to be honest,” Hot Rod chuckled.   “Galvatron was just nice enough to to be my bodyguard this time.   _Actually_ —he asked about the Decepticon Sanctuary City, since we were coming to Cybertron.   Do you have time to take him on a tour there, while I talk to Blurr?”

            Ultra Magnus glanced at Galvatron again, who was just pacing a little and looking around the landing pad.   “Of course I will.   Do you have any words of wisdom for me?”   The Autobots’ Second-in-Command asked with a smile down at the flame-colored mech.

            “Just, you know— _the usual_.   Be respectful—he really appreciates that you speak to him _respectfully_ , Magnus,” Hot Rod said, grinning up at his friend.   “Also, try to keep your answers to his questions as simple as possible—neither I nor Cyclonus are with you to interpret for him.   So, don’t be long-winded in an answer—as short and simple as possible.”

            “ _Understood_.   Blurr should be in the security center right now, he’s currently unassigned and is bored, so he’s running messages around for security,” the tall red-white-blue mech answered.   “I’ll show Galvatron around in Kesia.”    After saying that, he walked over to Galvatron—offered his services to show Galvatron around the sanctuary of Kesia and let Hot Rod go to look for Blurr.

            As Hot Rod entered the security center, he heard Kup’s familiar voice right away—telling another of his true, but wildly and fantastically expanded upon, tales from the past.   He peered into the room and saw a dozen mechs lounging about, listening to the tall tale—one of whom was Blurr.   Blurr was pacing about the computer banks in the wall, trying to keep himself busy while listening to the oldmech talk.   The flame-colored mech snuck into the room and gave a smile and wave at Kup, who returned the wave without even a break in his storytelling, then he walked over to Blurr.

            “Hey, got a few minutes to chat with me?”  Hot Rod asked, softly, as soon as he got Blurr’s attention.

            The two mechs left the room and walked outside the security center.

            “HotRodit’sbeenalongtimesinceI’veseenyou!How’veyoubeenonChaar?Novastillbeingagoodkid?Heardyahadanothersparklingtoo,how’sshebeen?”   Blurr said in his very fast way of speaking.

            “Things have been pretty good for me, overall.   There’s a few weird problems here and there, but it’s _mostly_ been good,” Hot Rod answered, pulling a datapad from his forearm subspace pocket and brought up his pictures of the sparklings.

            “Awwwwisnt’sheadorable?Nova’sreallygottenbigger,too!”  The blue-colored mech chuckled, swiping through the photos fast and handing the datapad back to Hot Rod.

            That was when Hot Rod suddenly realized, Blurr was still acting like he was his friend—Blurr _wasn’t_ pushing him away or awkwardly avoiding him.

            “You could come visit, you know.   The Autobot Embassy is _for the Autobots_ ,” Hot Rod began, trying not to just blurt out “ _why don’t you visit me?_ ” or “ _do you hate me, too?_ ” to the always-in-action, blue-colored mech.

      “Meh,Idon’twannabeaburdenonyou.Iimaginethingsarehardenoughforyoutodealwith,witheveryoneelseandallthat,” Blurr responded with a deep sigh.

            “But……..I’d really like it if more Autobots came to visit.   I miss you guys sometimes, you know?”  Hot Rod said, softly, shuffling his pedes a bit.

            Blurr held up his servos, pointer fingers raised on each and then incycled and exvented very deeply, as he forced his vocalizer to slow its speed-pacing for a few moments.  “ _Look_.   I heard about the deal with you and those two,” the blue-colored mech said, as slowly as he possibly could.   “I get why it _hurts_ you.   You always liked Springer and Arcee _a lot_.   But **_I_** never stopped being your friend, Hot Rod.   We just were never as close as you were with them,” he added, smiling at the flame-colored mech.   He incycled and exvented deeply, once more, to keep his vocalizer at a slower pace for just a few moments longer.   “You _can’t_ control whom you love, you just have to take care if it’s actually wrong for you.    Galvatron’s never hurt you—he _plays_ with you.   Like a lion might play with a housecat’s young kitten—it’s a bit rough because the size and strength are different between each of them.”

            “ _Blurr!   I’m **so glad** you get it!_”  Hot Rod cried, softly, reaching over and hugging the blue-colored mech.

            Blurr chuckled and patted the flame-colored mech’s head before the young Autobot pulled away and smiled at the swift Autobot courier.

            “ ** _So_** ,nowwhatcanIdoforyou?WhyareyouhereonCybertronlookingforme?”  He asked, his vocalizer finally done with slowing down for a few moments.

            “ _Okay_.  Now……..I think _you’re_ the only one that might help me get in shape for a race.   I need a training partner and I was hoping that maybe you might come and stay on Chaar for a couple weeks and help me train to race,” Hot Rod began, grinning happily.

            “Arace?You’regoingtorace? _Where?_ ”   Blurr asked, stretching his arms and legs as he kept talking with the younger mech.

            “On the racetrack, in the entertainment district, _on Chaar_.   Onslaught told me I should really race on opening day and Galvatron seems to be really excited about seeing me in action, _soooooooooooo_ ………..!”  The flame-colored mech laughed warmly.   “I know I could _never_ beat you, but you can help me out better on my pacing and timing.”

            “Isthereanychance ** _I_** canrace?I’dlovetohavesomefiercecompetition!”   Blurr chuckled as the two of them just started walking around the building.

            “Probably not on opening day, everything’s strictly booked up,” Hot Rod explained.   “But the track’s going to be open pretty much all the time, so if you wanna come and visit to enter a race, I’m sure the Decepticons would enjoy some fierce competition!”

            “ ** _This_** isdefinitelysomethingthathassomerealpotentialhere!”   The blue-colored mech murmured, making a thoughtful gesture with his servos.   “Youhaveyourselfatrainingpartner!”   He laughed, reaching over and hugging Hot Rod’s shoulders.

            Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus had taken Galvatron to the Decepticon Sancturary City, which had become named “ _Kesia_ ” by the inhabitants.

            “Lord Galvatron.   Please be a bit open-minded with the Decepticons here.   There’s probably a reason they chose not to live on Chaar,” Ultra Magnus warned, softly, before they entered the city.

            It was in varying stages of construction, but there were the essentials of the hab block area and it looked like a small area for shops and minor necessities.   Galvatron took in all the details as he walked beside Ultra Magnus into the city.   He thought to himself that really, it was not unlike everything on Chaar—it was still a work-in-progress.

            “You have no need to worry.   I do not ask my Decepticons to like me—I only ask for their loyalty upon the fields of battle.    When there is no battle and they have no specified tasks assigned to them, I do not care what they do with their lives,” Galvatron responded in a non-chalant tone, waving an arm dismissively.    “They likely live here, _because_ they do not like me.   _It is as simple as that_.   But so long as they wear **_this brand_** ……..” he trailed off, pointing to the crowned mask mark upon his own chest, “…….they are still **_my Decepticons_** and it is their Emperor who must be assured they are being provided for, when they choose not to live within the empire’s boundaries.”

            Ultra Magnus found a little bit of warmth creep into his Spark when Galvatron said that.   It was clearly Hot Rod’s influence in his life that made Galvatron consider all Decepticons as important as this statement said they were to the Emperor of the Decepticons.   Hot Rod truly was bringing out the best in Galvatron—just as the Decepticon Leader was doing for the young, flame-colored mech.   Perhaps the future that Hot Rod said he’d seen in Galvatron’s Spark really would come to pass one day?

            The Decepticons that passed them on the walkways looked at both Ultra Magnus and Galvatron very strangely.   Galvatron saw this area was something of a public gathering area and chose to stop and make a speech.

            “ _My Decepticons!_    Though you do not live on Chaar—I have come to assess that you are being cared for outside of the empire’s boundaries!”   Galvatron said, his deep voice just the right volume to get everyone’s attention upon him.   The Decepticon Leader stood at ease, with one servo upon his hip and the other one free to motion with.   “I do not ask you to alter your choice whether to live here or upon Chaar.   I only wish for my Decepticons to remain as they choose to be— _free to be Decepticons_ and to not be oppressed for who they are.   The ceasefire accords forged with my Prime have been beneficial to both Autobots and Decepticons as more and more return from the frontier.   Our alliance against Starscream is something that must be strengthened better for the future.   The one I speak of, _my Prime_ —whose designation is Hot Rod—he has been working very hard to ensure that Decepticons may be Decepticons and Autobots may be Autobots and not force the other to defy their brands or their ways.”

            The Decepticons that had slowly stopped and gathered around began murmuring and looking at Galvatron appraisingly.

            “There is a difference between the two—our core programs and protocols are vastly different, my Prime understands that and has been working on forging a way for us both to live with our programs and protocols without it resorting to war with one another.   We Decepticons _must_ have battle, it is essential to our core programming.   Picking fights with each other is _not_ the way,” Galvatron continued, waving his free servo as he spoke.    “My Prime has suggested something akin to battle games and it is a thing that must still be developed.   But in the meantime, Chaar has an entertainment district with some challenging games, which will be finished soon.   If you crave true battle, you need merely join in our combat with Starscream when his forces attack—we also have the damn Trylians, who keep insisting on invading Chaar’s system.”

            More Decepticons had gathered around and began speaking with each other in whispers.

            “So long as you wear _my_ brand, you are part of _my empire_ and I must ensure your health and safety, no matter how far away you are.   So if you feel there are issues or you are being treated unfairly, do not merely whine and complain about it—take your issues to Ultra Magnus.   He has been working with my Prime for this solution of a sanctuary city,” Galvatron continued.   “And should any of you feel you wish to come to Chaar instead, you may also speak to Ultra Magnus upon that and we will find transport to get you to Chaar safely.   And, as soon as the entertainment district is completed, we shall work out some kind of……… _weekly transport_ in some way, so that you may come and enjoy amusements with your fellow Decepticons.”

            The gathered Decepticons began talking with excitement.   One person up at the front raised a servo and Galvatron nodded, pointing at him to speak.

            “ _Umm, look._    I think a lot of us chose to come to Cybertron because we came from the frontier and don’t know of Chaar or you or anything,” the mech, who had colors of purple-and-maroon said firmly.  

            “ _Yes_.   My Prime has pointed this out to me before.   I have no issue with you choosing where you wish to go.   I even understand that some may be here merely because they have heard of my power and fear me,” Galvatron responded, his words and tone not exactly kind, but very straightforward—as was Galvatron’s way.

            “Well, you don’t seem as bad as everyone was saying, you know?”  The mech continued.

            Galvatron roared with laughter.   “I am a _terrible_ and _horrible_ mech, I will admit that to you.   But I wish for my Decepticon Empire to flourish.  However, I do not try to destroy everyone as I once did, simply because I take issue with them or the things they say.   I owe much to Rodimus Prime— _to my precious little Hot Rod_ —it is not easy to have been reformatted by the Chaos Bringer, his madness leaked into all of us that he touched,” the Decepticon Leader said, his voice calm and even.   “My Prime chose to deal with me compassionately, as is his way, and he managed to break through the madness that Unicron filled us all with.   Perhaps I do not understand this thing called _‘love’_ that he claims and that you all seem to understand as well, but I understand the very roots of its meaning, I believe, after all these years,” he explained, gazing directly at the purple-and-maroon mech.

            “You’re _Spark-bonded_ to that Autobot?”  Another Decepticon asked, who looked to be a femme with colors of purple-and-black.

            “I am.   Because I _chose_ to claim him and he chose to accept my claim,” Galvatron responded.

            The gathered Decepticons began murmuring and talking with one another.   Galvatron was puzzled by this—why would they all be surprised at such a thing?

            “ _Mmm_.   They’re a bit puzzled because most of us Cybertronians only have _one single Spark-bond_ in a lifetime and I think they’ve heard the rumours about you and Cyclonus,” Ultra Magnus said, leaning over to whisper it to the Decepticon leader.   “And Spark-bonds are about _love_ to the majority of us.   That you would Spark-bond without love and to multiple people—maybe it also brings up some of the very bad rumours about Megatron.”

            Galvatron frowned deeply.   He realized he _should’ve_ known that, given what Hot Rod had mentioned was in his Spark—the ghosts of all those previous Spark-bonds from when he had been the mech he barely remembered, _Megatron_.   Megatron used the Spark-bonding as a _claiming_ , yes—but also to prove his dominance over others.   Galvatron claimed Cyclonus and Scourge to keep them all from dying when Unicron did and he claimed Rodimus Prime by choice.   _He had simply wanted the flame-colored mech more than anything!_    He did not understand this “ _love_ ” thing—it just seemed like a softer, kinder version of obsession to him.

            Galvatron thrust out his free servo………which, _thankfully_ , was not the one with his nova cannon attached—that servo was resting on his hip.   “ _My Decepticons!_    Perhaps there is misunderstanding here.   If you are thinking I am like that previous one…….the one called Megatron……I feel that I must reassure you that _I am not_!   And it is true that I have multiple Spark-bonds, but two of them were forged of _necessity_ and the other was forged of _desire_.   And all three of those mechs have great importance to me—they are _not_ trash to be thrown away upon a whim!”   He said, sharply, locking optics with the Decepticons who met his gaze.   “And I have no intention of forging anymore Spark-bonds in my lifetime!   Besides, why should I want to?   Between Cyclonus and Hot Rod alone—I have _no need_ of any other mech or femme to come to my berth!”   He laughed, warmly.

            “You _may_ want to explain about the sparklings,” Ultra Magnus said, helpfully.   “They, too, have a Spark-bond to you, but not in the traditional way.”

            “ _Oh, come now!_    Why should I wish to brag about my spawn?   For I am the only one to have done so—well, until we discovered those two foreigners, at any rate!”   Galvatron chuckled.   He turned back to the crowd of Decepticons.   “Well, Ultra Magnus feels I should speak of my spawn that I forged with my Prime.    I have _two sparklings_ with my Prime, my Novablaze and my Stormbreaker.   Both are very precious to me—there is a semblance of a Spark-bond between us, but only because the method of forging them necessitates it.   My Novablaze is very intelligent for his young age.  He has just acquired the ability to transform into an alt mode, which is a small space-jet, and he has discovered subspace pocket weapons.   My Stormbreaker is still very small—and is, as my Prime calls her, very _‘cute’_.   She has a plush toy that is her treasure and she is curious about everything—she has only begun to speak more properly.   And I should warn you now— _seek to harm my spawn and you shall truly see my fury_.”

            The chatter amongst the Decepticons changed in tone.   It had some amusement in it.   Clearly they could tell that Galvatron cared in some way about his sparklings.   They all began to see that perhaps the rumours they’d all heard about the Decepticon Leader may have been exaggerated a little—or that Galvatron had actually changed over the years.   The Decepticons realized that Galvatron was just somehow wired and programmed differently……..he didn’t have the more understandable emotional capabilities that they all understood as “ _normal_ ”.

            “Honestly, the way you all go about emotions seems very tiring,” Galvatron murmured to Ultra Magnus.

            “It can be,” the Autobots’ Second-in-Command chuckled softly.   “But I think you’ve made them understand you a little bit better by speaking to them.”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “ _Daaaaaaaaannnnnyyyyy!!!_ ”   A young, familiar voice squealed as the young man stepped out of the shuttlecraft in Athenia’s landing area.   “ _Gimme!_ ”   The brown-haired little boy demanded as soon as he came to a screeching halt in front of the long-time friend of the Autobots since his birth.   The little boy made grabby-hands up at Daniel Witwicky.

            “ _Ah-ha-ha!_    What makes you think I have anything for you, Kicker?”   Daniel laughed warmly, reaching down to tousle the little boy’s brown hair fondly.

            “You _always_ bring me something back from the anime ‘cons!   _Gimme!_ ”   Kicker demanded with a big grin on his face.

            “Come on, move your little butt to the lounge, I’ll give you your present there,” the young man laughed.   He turned his head to grin at his fiancée and then said he’d spend more time with her later.   Amber chuckled and took their rolling suitcases back towards their room, shaking her head and laughing.   “Hey kiddo, what’d your dad bring you back from Chaar?”  He asked as the two of them entered the lounge and saw a few of the Athenia staff lounging about.

            “He brought me a couple shiny rocks.  _Bleh_ ,” Kicker answered with a pout.  

            “Hey now, Rad and I dug up a lot of _great stuff_!”   Thomas Jones pouted just as much, as he lowered the datapad to look at Daniel and Kicker.   These two were definitely related!   “How was Anime Convergence, Daniel?   Did you and Amber get a lot of cosplay photos taken of you guys?”   The young father asked with a grin over at the two.

            “Yeah, we had a lot of compliments on our costumes—lots of people wanted our pictures,” Daniel chuckled warmly, plopping down into a chair and dropping a duffel bag right in front of him.   “Okay Kicker—who’s your _favorite_ Japanese monster hero of all time?”

            “ _EEEEEEEE!!!!_ ”   The little boy squealed, jumping up and down.   “Did you _really_ get me a Kuwagamaru figure?!”  Kicker gasped, holding out his hands and twitched his fingers with grabby-hand motions.

            “Here ya go, ya little brat!”   Daniel laughed, pulling a box out of his duffel bag.

            The box contained a younger collector’s version of Kuwagamaru from the popular Japanese hero anime of the moment, “ _World Hero League_ ”—which Daniel and Amber had dressed as characters from for the convention.   The younger collector’s version was designed for play between the ages of 8-18—it had some poseability, but not the fine amount of the high-end adult collector’s figures.   The figure was designed to be played with, containing also a couple of weapons for it to hold.   Kuwagamaru was a hero from the show, the Defender of the Forests—had a metallic kind of hero outfit that resembled a Giant Stag Beetle.   There was a short cape that was split, to resemble the wings of a beetle.   It had the colors of black and dark red on the metallic hero outfit.

            “ _Yay!!!   Thank you so much, Danny!!!_ ”   Kicker cried, excitedly, reaching up to hug the young man and then climbed up onto the couch that his father was sitting on to open the box and play with his brand new figure.

            “So, Doctor Jones—how was the trip to Chaar?   I heard Hot Rod was gone for a bit, so I hope that Galvatron wasn’t too much for you,” the brown-haired young man asked, his brown eyes warm with amusement.   “Just ran into Hot Rod on Earth with that little thing that happened in L.A. while at the convention, he seems to be doing well.”

            “I saw Hot Rod on the last day I was there, he was in rather good spirits.   I am honestly excited at what we found so far on Chaar.   I mean…….. _Palladium_!   If only Galvatron knew how rare and precious that is to us here on Earth!   Well, you know what I mean!”  Thomas laughed, since Daniel gave him a wry look, being that none of them were exactly on Earth right now.   “But his little girl had a problem while I was there—her kitty got a hole in it and was leaking fluff.   The poor thing was heartbroken, but I used the thread and needle in the first aid kit to patch it up as best as I could.”

            “ _Oh, man_ ………..poor little Stormbreaker.   I know how much she loves that plush cat,” Daniel murmured.  “I wonder if I should get her a new one……..?”  He murmured, leaning back into the couch.

            “Daniel, as a father—let me tell you right now, _that_ doesn’t really work.   A new one _isn’t_ the same as the one that’s their treasure,” Thomas answered, reaching over to rub his son’s head fondly.   Kicker swatted lightly at his father’s arm, his concentration on his new hero figure.   “But, here—if you want to help out with that, get her a new plush and you explain to her that you’re giving her a friend for her kitty to play with.   Then you wait to see if she will attach as much to the new plush as the old one.”

            Daniel rubbed his stubble-rough chin lightly, thinking about that.   He could see what Thomas was getting at with the explanation and it made a lot of sense.   Even though Kicker had lots of toys that he played with, there was a battered old hero figure he played with a lot more than any of his other toys.   And he’d be in mourning if the figure were lost for even a day—it was always on his bedside table every single night.   It was a figure that he’d had since he was a toddler, that his father gave him………….an old Ultraman figure—because Thomas Jones grew up knowing _that_ particular Japanese superhero.   It wasn’t as articulate like modern figures were, you could move the arms and legs a minimal amount, but it had been big and solid for Kicker’s tiny, little hands back then—and he loved that Ultraman figure more than anything.

            “Since she didn’t have much interest in Nova’s Shiba Inu plush—other than it was soft and she liked that, maybe I should go for the Red Panda plush?   It looks a little like the kitty, just with a fluffier tail and different colors,” Daniel mused, softly.   He pulled his datapad out of his duffel bag and started looking up some of the plushes from “ _Fuzzy Fiesta_ ” to see if the particular plush style of the kitty was still available for any of the other characters.   “ ** _Erk_**.   Good thing I wasn’t considering that dragon one…….holy crap, that’s going for _way too much_ from online vendors!   I guess there was a mass production done on the Red Panda and Shiba Inu plushes—they’re everywhere and not very expensive.”

            “ _Hunh?_    What’re ya lookin’ at, Danny?”   Kicker asked, hopping off the couch beside his father and trying to climb up onto the small two-seater couch that Daniel was sitting on.

            “I’m gonna get another plush for Stormbreaker,” he said, thoughtfully.   The little boy looked confused and tilted his head questioningly up at Daniel.   “Hot Rod’s little femmeling.   You played with her on Chaar that one time.”

            “ _Oh!_    The baby Transformer!   She was _cute_!   Girls like Red Pandas, she should like it!”  Kicker said brightly, as if he knew all the right answers.   “Hey…………how can Transformers be boys and girls?   I mean they’re robots, right?”  The little boy asked, looking up into Daniel’s face with curiosity.

            “They’re more than _just robots_ like our television and movies portray them, they have something like a soul and individual personalities,” Daniel said, touseling the boy’s brown hair fondly.   “The core of their very being is called a _‘Spark’_ —it’s like a combination of our hearts and what we call a soul.   Without the Spark, they wouldn’t be alive—if their Sparks die, then they do, too.   But the Spark also has all the _‘data’_ that makes them an individual being.”

            Kicker scratched his head softly and then suddenly his hair began floating and glowing a golden tone.   “ _Oh_.   Optimus is here,” the little boy said, grimacing a little bit.   “Daddy, his aura’s too strong, I’ve got a headache…………” Kicker mumbled, hopping off the couch beside Daniel and going back over to his father’s side.

            “It’s _probably_ the Matrix of Leadership.   I know Optimus is really good at holding in his EM field,” Daniel said, softly.   “I wonder why he’s here?   Maybe I should go find out?”  

            “Stay here for a bit.   If he wants you, he’ll call for you,” Thomas said, softly, hugging Kicker and rubbing the little boy’s temples soothingly.   “More likely he’s come to speak with your father about you _not_ evacuating L.A. with everyone else.”

            “ _Gah!   I’m an **adult**!_”  Daniel groaned, flopping back against the back of the couch and facepalming himself.   “It’s not like my dad didn’t get into trouble like that when he was my age and younger…………”

            “Optimus lectured him then, too, as I recall Spike saying quite often,” Thomas laughed, softly.

            Daniel muttered under his breath, going back to his viewing the sales pages on his datapad and putting in an order for one of the “ _Fuzzy Fiesta_ ” Red Panda plushes.   He had it sent to his postal box back on Earth and would go to pick it up as soon as it was delivered.   Then he just had to find a chance to make an excuse to go to Chaar……….

            “Hey, Doctor Jones—are you planning to go back to Chaar anytime soon?”  Daniel asked, looking over at the young father, who was soothingly rubbing his son’s temples as the boy’s brown hair still flared golden around his head.

            “I thought about it, yeah.   I want to talk to Galvatron about the Palladium, let him know how rare and precious it is on Earth and that he could probably get a lot of money out of some of the governments for it,” Thomas responded, softly.   “There were also a couple of soil samples that had some gemstones in them—I think there’s a pretty good cache of rubies in the depths of Chaar’s soil.   And I mean _really red_ rubies, too—I think they’re such a vivid red because of the other minerals in the soil.   There’re some elements I don’t recognize either, so I need to speak with Mixmaster again to see if he knows what those elements are.”

            “When you do, I’d like to go with you.   Maybe we can take Kicker along again—he can play with Stormbreaker some more and maybe show her his superhero toys?”  Daniel said, smiling at the little boy as he turned to look at Daniel when his name was mentioned.

            “ _Dunno_.   Would a girl want to play with superhero toys?”  Kicker asked, frowning softly.

            “Stormbreaker doesn’t know a lot about much of anything yet.   You can teach her how fun superheroes are, right?”  The brown-haired young man chuckled, warmly.

            “ _Yeah!_ ”  Kicker said, excitedly, snuggling up against his father’s side as his hair seemed to settle down.   So, either Optimus Prime had moved further away or Kicker’s oddly sensitive human EM field had gotten used to the immediate presence of the Autobot Leader.

            “ _Oh_.   And Doctor Jones—the Decepticons we saw in L.A., I’d like you to look at Nosecone’s data,” Daniel said, reaching in his duffel bag for another datapad.   “They were apparently fifty-percent each of organic and Cybertronian and they looked like bizarre monsters.   They didn’t look robotic at all.”

            Thomas Jones took the datapad and looked intently at the information compiled by the Technobots’ analyst.   He reached up and stroked his goatee lightly as he pondered the information.   Nosecone couldn’t get a chemical or elemental makeup for these strange monsters, which made the human scientist think that perhaps they had some kind of shield over their frames—maybe something akin to the Transformers’ EM fields?   _A shield…………?_

            “Daniel.   I think we should talk to Spike.   I have a small theory, but since your dad knows a lot about the Transformers—more than almost any human actually does—he might be able to see what I’m grasping at and let me know if it’s theoretically possible,” Thomas murmured, softly.   “If my theory has a chance of being right, we may want to forward our theories to the Autobot and Decepticon command chains.”

            “Okay, let’s drop Kicker off with his mom and go look for my dad,” Daniel said, getting to his feet and tossing both datapads back in his duffel bag.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Deadlock pulled his massive concussion rifles out of the clamps on his back and opened fire on the Destrons.   This hadn’t been a pretty situation they landed in.   In fact, it had been a disaster that was made worse by the _Thunder Arrow_ ’s arrival on Bartz.   And of course, the moment that Star Saber had seen the slaughtered Autobots—he went into battle mode with such ferocity that Deadlock thought he’d lost it, completely.   Deszaras thought the same, but he knew the situation couldn’t be abandoned at this point, because there were still several Cybertronians alive—one was an Autobot, the other three were Decepticons—and none of them clearly wished to submit to the Destron Army!

            **[Des.   You know those Decepticons as well as I do—and there’s a clear reason those particular Insecticons never joined the group on Earth,]** the grey-and-white mech comm-link sent to his superior officer.   **[The fact that Starscream courted them and got them to join him bodes ill for all of us.]**

            **[I know, Deadlock.   They’re cannibalistic and if Starscream can tame them without them eating his own Destrons—then he’s made big progress at recruiting some heavy hitters on his side,]** Deszaras responded, the tone in his comm-link voice grim and serious.

            Venom, Barrage, Chop Shop and Ransack were the most violent and most terrifying of the entire swarm of Insecticons.   Venom was a brutal commander with a horned wasp form in his alt mode.  Ransack was a solid soldier whose alt mode was a four-winged locust.  Chop Shop was a silent and deadly hunter with multi-pronged mandible in his stag beetle form.  Barrage was the brutal Second-in-Command of this force, with his alt mode being a massive horned beetle.

            But these Insecticons, who now wore Starscream’s Destron brand, were _not_ the only ones here.  It was only inevitable that they would finally encounter an Autobot who had joined with Starscream’s Destron Army……….no one was expecting it to be _this particular Autobot_ , though!

            Greatshot was one of those legendary Autobots from millions of years ago—right up there with Optimus Prime and Alpha Trion.  He had been a member of the police force in the Crystal City and was there when it fell.   He’d imprinted a stylized phoenix on his chestplate after that, as a legendary bird from many species’ mythological stories that was reborn after total destruction—it was a tribute to his memory of Crystal City and that he had survived it.   After that, he’d expressed a desire to go to the frontier with the forces being sent out there.   The mech, with colors of black and white and red for his armour and derma, was a weaponsexpert—not unlike Deadlock.   But while Deadlock preferred his twin massive concussion rifles, Greatshot preferred using a massive cannon rifle that he had attached to his back and pulled up over his shoulder when he wanted to use it.   If he had to get up close to an enemy, he had twin longswords.

            **[Saber is going to lose it even more when he notices Greatshot—they used to fight together,]** Deadlock muttered over the comm-link to Deszaras.

            **[I can only think of one reason why he joined Starscream—and that means that the rumours were true all along,]** the Decepticon Negare Strike Unit commander responded, fiercely fighting to reach the Autobot who was directing another group of…………things………….into attacking the organic creatures on this world.

            They looked to be organic types and had forms of bizarre monsters.   Deszaras couldn’t help but wonder if this meant that Starscream really were recruiting other species into his army, to fill out his numbers even more.

            **[You don’t think it’s really true, do you?   Because who’s the traitor then?   Sky Shadow a traitor to the Decepticons or Greatshot to the Autobots?!]**   Deadlock sent, keeping on with his volleys of shots into the Insecticons, which were feeding on the corpses that were on the ground—both Cybertronian and organic ones.

            **[If they’re both with Starscream—then they’re both traitors to each of their brands,]** Deszaras answered, sweeping his sword at a couple of the strange organic monsters.

            There were _six of them_.   That should mean something.

            But _what_ did it mean?

            Deszaras didn’t like that he was missing out on something that was probably so very obvious.

            A bit further from the heart of the combat where Deadlock and Deszaras were—Star Saber was facing off with Sky Shadow and the strange organic-looking monsters.   He hadn’t yet seen Greatshot, who was directing combat with the tribe of brutal Insecticons with him—and that was likely a good thing right now.   He was already infuriated to see the corpses of the Autobots (and the Decepticons) and the organics when they landed to try and find the signals of the ones who contacted them.

            “Never, in all my millennia, had I ever hoped to enjoy combat with the legendary Star Saber!”  Sky Shadow chuckled.  He reached back and drew a sword from a sheath-pocket on his back.   “Hey, keep having fun and causing chaos, kids!”   He called to the pack of monsters, who gleefully launched back into terrorizing the primitive village they were in.

            Star Saber launched at Sky Shadow and their swords clashed and clanged like music.   The old Autobot warrior realized that the former Decepticon was just as good a sword-swinger as Deszaras was.   He shouldn’t revel in combat like this, but he was……….perhaps like Hot Rod had suggested, some Autobots had the Military Hardware coding in them—just as some Decepticons might have the Consumer Goods programming in them.   So, maybe just like the Decepticons…….Star Saber needed to fight sometimes, just to satisfy his core-deep programming.

            “You’re pretty good—up there with my old rival, Greatshot,” Sky Shadow chuckled.

            “I won’t allow you to speak in such a tone of my friend!”  Star Saber snarled.

            Sky Shadow’s longsword sang harshly against Star Saber’s own as a sadistic grin crept across his faceplate.   He used his free servo to grab the old Autobot warrior by the throat and then took him to the ground.

            “ _Poor little Star Saber_.   I don’t think you knew your _‘friend’_ very well,” the black-and-grey armoured warrior chuckled softly, pressing his faceplate close to the Autobot’s.   “I think my lover would be touched that you still think so highly of him after all these millennia.   Perhaps you’d like to tell him yourself?”  He whispered, his rough voice full of amusement and sadism.

            “What are you talking about, you Destron lunatic?!”  Star Saber growled, his voice echoing behind his warrior’s facial shield.

            “Oh, _wait_ —he and his little group are busy with Deszaras and his lieutenant.   Frankly, I’m shocked Deadlock is still around—as practically suicidal as he had always been in combat,” the black-armoured warrior chuckled softly.

            Star Saber’s optical orbs cycled open wide beneath the blue-glass coverings, making them glow brightly as what Sky Shadow was saying had finally dawned on him.   But…….. _that just couldn’t be_ , could it?   Sky Shadow and his old friend Greatshot were……… _lovers_?   _Greatshot had joined Starscream’s Destron Army?! **And Greatshot was here right now?!**_

            Star Saber’s fury ignited and he drew upon all his strength to raise his head and quickly headbutt Sky Shadow right in the jawplating.   Then he rolled away and went up to his pedes quickly and, then, threw his sword back into its sheath on his back, spinning on his pedes and running back towards where Deszaras and Deadlock had been fighting.   He came upon the chaos and swore violently under his breath.

            Deszaras was busy fighting Greatshot and Deadlock was trying to stop the small Insecticon tribe from feasting on the corpses of the Cybertronians and the natives.   One of them, a mech that looked like a locust, had knocked Deadlock to the ground and was eating the Decepticon weaponsmech’s left leg.   Deadlock knew far more cursewords than Star Saber apparently………..and his large concussion rifles were scattered, one was being gnawed on by something that looked like a horned stag beetle and the other was about a hundred feet away.

            The old Autobot hero launched himself at Deadlock, since he knew Deszaras never really needed his help.  He kicked the Insecticon off of his other lover and hauled the Decepticon up to his pedes.

            “How’s your leg?”  Star Saber asked, softly.

            “If we frag anytime soon—you’re going to have to _ride me_ , because I sure as hell won’t be slamming into you from behind,” Deadlock grumbled.   “Or anything else that requires _creative maneuverability_!”   He chuckled softly.   “I hate to suggest this, since I’m _only the sidekick_ , but……… _we’ve got to go._    We _can’t_ salvage this.   Not in any way.   _But_ ……..go get that Decepticon that’s been hiding in the hut.   At least we can save _one life_ ……..” the Decepticon warrior said, softly, nodding over towards a hut about a hundred yards away.

            “What about you— _you can’t walk_?!”  The old Autobot warrior complained, his voice full of annoyance.

            Deadlock grunted and used a free servo to finger-flick Star Saber in the forehead.   “ _Aft_.  I can still transform,” he grumbled.   “ _Now go!_    If we don’t save at least one life here………then we _failed_!   And I _hate_ failing!”   He growled, shoving on the Autobot’s shoulder roughly.

            Star Saber grunted and ran towards the hut.   He shoved his way through the door and saw a blue-dark grey-maroon colored mech with his optics out the window, waiting for trouble.   “Come with me, we _must_ go now!”   He said, sharply.

            “ _Yeah_.   Don’t want to stick around here any longer.   Thought Megatron got rid of those particular bugs a long time ago,” the mech grunted.   “Name’s Quake,” he added, getting to his pedes.

            As soon as they were out of the hut—Star Saber and Quake ran for the _Thunder Arrow_.   The old Autobot warrior comm-linked Deszaras to inform him of their retreat, even as Deadlock sped past them in his vehicular mode.   As soon as they were all aboard the _Thunder Arrow_ , Deszaras transformed into his monster-bird form and sped for the ship.

            It was not a win for the right side today, not on the planet Bartz.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            When the _Thunder Arrow_ landed on Chaar—Galvatron was there immediately at the embassy’s landing area.   Deszaras had called ahead to report that there was some grave news from out on the frontier and he’d asked Galvatron and Hot Rod to meet with him at the embassy’s landing area.   Plus he’d asked for Onslaught and Cyclonus there for the critical information on the units they encountered.   He’d also asked for medics to take a look at Deadlock right away.

            Hook and Bonecrusher took the Decepticon weaponsmech away quickly, very concerned about the state of left leg—it was no longer just chewed up, it looked like part of it had melted away a little.   And Deadlock was in a feverish and semi-conscious state.

            “It was Venom and his tribe of Insecticons,” Deszaras reported, shaking his head and handing the datapad to Onslaught to look at first.   Then he folded his arms across his chest and shook his head sharply.   “Plus the fact that Greatshot and Sky Shadow were both there—together—along with those organic-looking monsters you encountered on Earth a little bit ago.”

            Onslaught viewed the combat analysis and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.   “Venom’s tribe all have poisonous acid in their oral fluids, Deadlock may be in much worse shape than we thought,” the Combaticon commander murmured.   “Lord Galvatron—we can no longer keep underestimating Starscream’s ability to recruit.   Sky Shadow and Greatshot are _great warriors_ —like Star Saber and Deszaras, they were sent to the frontier with units to conquer…….or protect it,” he said to Galvatron.

            “Plus, if these particular Insecticons are indeed as dangerous as this data says—then it is something we must be extremely wary for in future combat,” Cyclonus murmured, taking the datapad from Onslaught and viewing the data closely.   “Soundwave, please find for me all the data on these particular Insecticons that you can find,” he said to the Decepticons’ Communications Officer.

            “Right away,” Soundwave responded, walking off towards the palace to use the main computers on Chaar.

            “My lord, I believe that Onslaught is correct.   We must start fortifying Chaar, because it is likely we could find ourselves under assault here at any time,” Cyclonus said, looking over at Galvatron and handing the datapad to Hot Rod next.   “We must also inform the Autobots of this potential danger, so that they may fortify their defenses as well.   Prime—is there a chance you may speak with your Autobot science officers about analyzing the venom from Deadlock’s wound and into looking for an anti-toxin for it?”   He asked, looking at the young, flame-colored mech.

            “As soon as Hook and Bonecrusher can get some samples sealed up—I’ll try and contact Perceptor,” Hot Rod said, worry toning his voice as he looked at the data.   “Captain—you and the others are welcome to stay at the embassy while Deadlock recovers.”

            “I appreciate that, Hot Rod.   And this is Quake—the only survivor we could manage on Bartz,” Deszaras responded with a nod and smile, motioning with a servo at the maroon-dark grey-blue mech who’d exited the _Thunder Arrow_ with them.

            “Hey,” the Decepticon said with a wry smile.   “Mind if I stay for a little bit, too, while I figure out what’s what around here?”   He asked, looking at Hot Rod and tilting his head curiously.

            “Sure,” the flame-colored mech answered with a grin.   “ _Galvatron_.   Starscream’s really working hard towards building a force to confront us all with.   We need to be ready for anything,” he said, looking up at his lover with worry in his optics and voice.

            “Do you really think that we will not be?”   Galvatron growled, frowning down at the littler mech beside him.

            “ _Well_.   No, but I think we might underestimate him and take a lot more damage than we want to,” Hot Rod said, firmly.   “I don’t doubt your power and your skill, my Emperor.   But _we’re_ also here and you _can’t_ be everywhere at once.   You can’t take on the entire Destron fleet all on your own.”

            “ ** _Tch_** ,” Galvatron muttered, darkly, crossing his arms across his chest.

            “Yes, yes—you’d like to try and prove that you _can_ ,” Hot Rod laughed.  “But for once, listen to all the tactics and Cyclonus and Onslaught before just doing nothing but waiting for Starscream to come to you,” he added, reaching up to pat his lover on the back.   “We have to prepare for his arrival—and be ready whenever that may be.”

            “Yes, yes………..of course.   You _must_ contact that titan-mech and tell him we may need his assistance sooner than later,” Galvatron sighed, reaching over and arm and cupping Hot Rod’s aft possessively.

            “Yeah, I’ll give Cerebros a call shortly.   We’ll need to talk to Optimus and Magnus,” Hot Rod responded.  “We’ll have to evaluate all the data we’ve got and start thinking about how we might counteract some of the forces that we know Starscream has.   Hey, let me show you guys around the embassy,” the flame-colored mech said, motioning to Deszaras, Star Saber and Quake.

            “ _Prime!_   You must tell me when you wish to confer with those others!”  Galvatron growled.

            “Tomorrow,” Hot Rod said, firmly.   “I know that the time we waste might give Starscream more opportunity and advantage, but we need to let Soundwave have time to do his research on the units that Starscream has now—that way we can present all the information we have to Magnus and the others.   And I can have an opportunity to talk with Cerebros.”

            Galvatron nodded.   Now that his precious Prime had found his fire again—he was perfectly willing to consider the equality of their command presence.   He had no further concerns that Hot Rod would doubt himself again any time soon—therefore, his knowledge and keen mind were very valuable at this particular moment.   And all of that deserved nothing but Galvatron’s respect!

            “Then we shall meet in the palace’s conference room tomorrow and we shall video conference with Cybertron and Earth,” Galvatron responded.   “Until tomorrow, Prime!”   He said, saluting and flying off to the palace with Cyclonus in his wake.

            “Hot Rod……….Blast Off and I will take some time to analyze the data, as well.   We’re also going to try and interview any Decepticons who may have interacted with these units that now belong to the Destron Army,” Onslaught said, glancing down at the flame-colored mech.   “Even if all we can get are personal opinions, perhaps we can start dossiers on our enemy.”

            “It’s a plan.   You can never underestimate personal observations,” Hot Rod said, planting his servos on his hips.   “ _Umm_.   I’m going to call Skyfire, too.   I know you said that Starscream and Skyfire’s relationship is long since buried in the past, but……..we need to consider _that_ , too.   Skyfire can tell us about Starscream before the Robo-Smasher got to him.”

            “Are you sure you want your friend dredging that up—it’s going to be very painful for him……?”  Onslaught murmured, reaching down and patting Hot Rod on the helm.

            “ _I’m_ ………I don’t want to, but……….I don’t think we have any choice anymore.   We need _every_ single bit of information we can get—on _all the players_ involved in this,” the flame-colored mech sighed, softly.   “Come on you guys, let me show you around……….” he said, turning to Deszaras and the others.

            The four mechs went into the embassy and were practically assaulted by four shorter mechs, all glomping onto Hot Rod.   The three Mini-Cons and Novablaze all hugged Hot Rod’s waist and legs.

            “Hey, come on all of you—I _need_ to be able to walk around!”  Hot Rod laughed, hugging his mechling’s shoulders and patting the helms of the three Mini-Cons glomping onto him.   “We have some company for a few days.   This is Captain Deszaras and Star Saber, from the _Thunder Arrow_.   Quake is a Decepticon come in from the frontier,” he introduced, waving at the three larger mechs behind him.

            “I remember Star Saber!   _Hi_!”   Novablaze said, excitedly, waving up at the old Autobot warrior.

            “Hey there, kiddo,” Star Saber chuckled, reaching down and rubbing Novablaze’s helm.

            “Hi, Captain Deszaras!   Hi, Quake!”  The mechling said cheerfully, grinning up at the other two Decepticons beside the large Autobot.

            Deszaras knelt down so he could look at Novablaze more easily.   “I am honored to meet you, young Novablaze,” the old Decepticon warrior said, fondly.

            “ _Thanks!_ ”  The mechling giggled happily.

            “Nice to meet ya,” Quake responded, reaching up to rub the back of his neck a bit nervously.   “Your field kinda reminds me of………… _nnnngh_ , never mind,” the Decepticon murmured softly.

            “A friend?”   Novablaze asked, softly, looking up into Quake’s faceplate.

            “ _Yeah_.   A _good_ friend.   We came out of the chamber together and have been friends forever,” the maroon-dark grey-blue mech said softly.   “ _Had_.   Yeah……… ** _had_**.”   Then the Decepticon gave a deep sigh and turned to walk away from the group.

            Hot Rod gave a soft little sigh and knelt down to hug his mechling comfortingly.

            “Cari, is he okay?”  Novablaze asked, quietly.

            “ _This_ is the reason we don’t want to have a war anymore, because then you lose the ones most precious to you,” Hot Rod murmured, kissing the top of his mechling’s helm, fondly.  “And those losses can _never_ be recovered.”

            “Poor Quake,” Novablaze murmured, hugging Hot Rod back, tightly.

            Hot Rod then stood up and walked over to the lobby seating area, where Slipstream and Sixshot were sitting on one of the couches and Stormbreaker was in her playpen, babbling to her plush kitty and playing with Novablaze’s old blocks.

            “ _Cari!!!_ ”  The femmeling said excitedly, looking up at the flame-colored mech and reaching up her servos towards him, flexing her tiny clawed fingers in a grabby-hands motion.

            Hot Rod reached down into the playpen and picked her up.   “Did you have a good nap-cycle this afternoon?”  The flame-colored mech chuckled, nuzzling the femmeling’s faceplate fondly.

            She giggled and batted at her carrier’s cheeks playfully.   “ _Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaapppppppp!_ ”  Stormbreaker said happily.

            “So, this is the femmeling,” Deszaras chuckled softly, walking over to the seating area and looking down at the red-colored femmeling in Hot Rod’s arms.

            “Yep, this is Galvatron’s other little brat,” Hot Rod chuckled.   “Storm, can you say _‘hi’_ to Captain Deszaras?”  The flame-colored mech said, making her look up at the tall Decepticon.

            “ _Hiiiiiiiiiiii!!!_ ”  Stormbreaker giggled, grabby-hand-waving at the tall blue-and-grey mech.

            “ _This_ is why we’ve got to try and convince Galvatron of the real threat that Starscream is,” Hot Rod murmured, looking up at Deszaras and then over at Slipstream and Sixshot.   “Or else Storm and Nova won’t have a chance to grow up and Chaar won’t see its new age dawning.”


	8. To Protect All That We Cherish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream attacks Chaar and many things are said between those who cherish each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my gaps in postings--I've been to urgent care and the ER a couple of times lately, I hope to get back on track soon. :)

_ Chapter Eight:  To Protect All We Cherish _

 

            Two weeks had passed since Deszaras and his crew came to Chaar with the information from Bartz.   Galvatron and Hot Rod had conferred with Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus via a communications video conference.   A lot of things were talked about, that bored Galvatron and had Cyclonus replace him in the discussions while he went out to go blow up things, the Trylians most especially, if he could.   In short, Hot Rod had set a date for an actual sit-down conference with the Autobots and Cerebros—inviting Magnus and Optimus to Chaar, as well as Fortress Maximus.   At first, Galvatron wanted to be a part of the talks and then decided he’d get nothing from them anyways and had Onslaught and Blast Off attend in his and Cyclonus’ stead.   Deszaras and Star Saber would also attend, as Deadlock was still recovering from his wound and getting used to a new leg.

            But, to Galvatron, military planning was best left to the more military minds, after all.  He was more or less the “ _point me in the direction of battle_ ” sort of warrior.

            They were all meeting inside of Fortress Maximus—who had taken to his stationary city-mode near the embassy.   He was just a little larger than the embassy building in height, but he stretched out much further in length.

            Daniel had come along, merely to hang out at the embassy and snag Hot Rod for some wedding planning talks after the “ _military pow wow_ ” was done.   Doctor Jones was going to come along as well, but Kicker had gotten sick recently and was still recovering, plus Hot Rod cautioned it may not necessarily be safe on Chaar right now.   So, the **_only_** human visitor was Daniel this time around.

            “Wow, Nova—look how big you are now!”   Daniel laughed, reaching up pretty high to pat the youngling’s shoulder.

            “ _Mmm-hmmm!_   Sire and Cyclonus have been training me to fight and stuff!   I can transform, too!”   The purple-and-yellow young mech said, excitedly.

            “That is _very_ cool,” Daniel chuckled.   “Hey Slipstream………..is the little bratling awake?”   He said, walking over to the seating area of the embassy’s lounge and pointed to the playpen.

            “Oh, definitely, she’s been staring out the mesh at you, waiting for you to walk over here,” the female Decepticon laughed warmly.   “Here, let me pull her out for you,” she added, reaching into the playpen and lifing up the femmeling holding her plush kitty, then placed her on the floor in the center of the seating area.

            “Hey there, sweetheart…………I have a present for you!”   Daniel said, cheerfully, squatting down in front of Stormbreaker and setting his duffel bag in front of him.

            She made grabby hands at Daniel, optics flickering briefly to the bag, but mostly gazing up at his face.   “ _Huuuuuuuugggggggggggg!!!_ ”   She demanded, softly.

            Daniel laughed warmly and reached over to hug her and pet the plush kitty, before going back to opening the duffel bag.   He pulled out another round plush, mostly red, with white fuzz on the interiors of the ears and a big fluffy tail with other colored rings on it.

            “I brought a new friend for you and your kitty,” Daniel said, smiling warmly at her.

            She looked at the Red Panda plush, a bit puzzled, and reached over to tug on one of the ears.  “Osser kiddy?”   She asked, looking into Daniel’s face with query.

            “Yeah, it’s another kitty—but a different kind of kitty.   It’s called a _‘Red Panda’_ ,” the young man answered, reaching over and rubbing her helm fondly.

            “Osser kiddy,” Stormbreaker responded, tugging on the ear again and bringing it closer to her.   She bumped her old, worn, grey kitty plush into the Red Panda.  “Kiddy.   Osser kiddy,” she said, grabbing each of them in a servo and bouncing them on the floor in front of her.   “ _Kiddy!   Osser kiddy!_ ”   The femmeling said more excitedly, hugging them both.   “ ** _Thaaaaassss!!!_** ”   She giggled, grinning up at Daniel happily.

            “You’re very welcome,” the young man chuckled, rubbing her helm fondly again and then stood up.   “So, where did Galvatron head off to, since he’s not in the meeting?”   He asked, looking up at Slipstream.

            “Off to blast things,” the Decepticon femme chuckled warmly.  “Last night, before recharge cycle, there were Trylian warships prowling about the outer edge of our system—Galvatron’s gone out to make sure they don’t even try to enter.”

            “He’s better off blasting things than talking strategy anyways,” Daniel laughed, climbing up onto one of the couches.   He took out his phone and aimed it at Stormbreaker to take some video of her playing very cutely with the two plush toys.   “Hey, Nova……..tell me about your training with Galvatron!”   He called over to the mechling, who was just watching his sister play on the floor with a smile.

            “ _Yeah!_ ”  Novablaze said excitedly, walking over to the seating and sitting next to Daniel.

            The young mech started talking about how Galvatron initially started training him with throws and how Hot Rod was often able to take the powerful Decepticon Leader to the ground with that.   How Galvatron _always_ had a story of Hot Rod (or him as Rodimus Prime) bringing the strong Emperor of the Decepticons to defeat in much of their sparring, even while he taught the mechling a new combat maneuver.

            Then he talked about how Cyclonus taught him about flight, even though Nova could still only fly in his alt mode right now—and about how the things in the palace were taken care of.   Those things done to make everything easier for Galvatron, that Galvatron really didn’t understand (nor did he care to anyways).

            Neither Galvatron, nor Cyclonus, had a sword type of weapon, so both of them were at something of a loss to train Novablaze at using that.   But they taught him about charging his laser weapon and using it………and the best way to aim it for accuracy.   All of this inevitably brought Galvatron back to speaking of the battles he had with Rodimus Prime—and Hot Rod—which were the greatest of all his combat moments.

            As Daniel listened to Novablaze chronicle his training with such detail, he realized just how many times Novablaze mentioned how Galvatron spoke about Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime in combat.   Galvatron had his own very strange way of loving the flame-colored mech—it was definitely true.   But the fact that Galvatron also thought so highly of the flame-colored Autobot as his “ _one and only equal_ ”, it was really something special.    Anyone who thought that Hot Rod and Galvatron were not a good match for each other………….they were _totally blind_ to the reality of the situation.   Hot Rod had the more natural, more understandable and more relatable emotions of love…………but Galvatron’s form of love was simply different.   It was “ _love_ ” in the way that only Galvatron could comprehend it—passion, obsession and even a level of some sort of worship.

            “Danny…………why are you smiling?”   Novablaze asked, tilting his head, curiously.

            “I just laugh at all the people who think that Galvatron’s a bad match for your carrier,” the young man said with a warm chuckle, reaching over to rub Novablaze’s helm fondly.

            “But why would they say that?”  The mechling pouted.

            “There are those who think love should be more pure,” Slipstream began.   “Love should be gentle and cherished.”

            “Galvatron’s form of love is much more wild and far more honest than what we others designate as _‘love’_ ,” Daniel added, grinning up at the teal-and-purple colored femme.    “Your sire isn’t exactly the most pleasant of all mechs to get along with—I’m not sure if you realize that or not, since you’re still fairly young.”

            “ _Mmmm_.   I think I do.   I notice he teases Stormy kind of………….not-so-nicely?”   The purple-and-yellow mechling murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.    “I guess he’s kind of like that to everyone………?”   He added.

            “Not-so-nice, yeah, I see that…………. _teasing_?   I think he leaves the teasing for the ones he cares for,” Daniel chuckled, patting Novablaze’s shoulder kindly.    “You’re getting old enough, so eventually someone will have to explain the Autobots, the Decepticons and the war to you—that way you understand just how important the ceasefire accords are to everyone.”

            “It does bring up a good question—I know they’ve worked on teaching you all the basics, but no one has thought to teach you history yet, have they?”   Slipstream murmured.   “I wonder what Hot Rod has planned for that?”

            “ _Waaahhhhh!   Sirrrrrreeeeee!!!_ ”   Stormbreaker squealed excitedly trying to get to her pedes, just as the door to the embassy opened and closed quickly.

            “I do believe I hear my Stormbreaker’s little sparkling words!”   Galvatron said, roaring with laughter as he walked over to the seating area.

            “Sire………….did you chase the Trylians away?”  Novablaze asked as Galvatron simply stood there, gazing down at the femmeling and not bending to pick her up yet—even though she was squealing and mewling for him to.   He watched his little sister, claw at their sire’s leg (basically using him to stand steadily!), crying for attention.

            “They have been routed for today.   I have left that Autobot on patrol, along with the Terrorcons and the unbranded mech that came to us, to watch for any immediate return of forces,” Galvatron responded, nodding down at his mechling seriously.   Then Galvatron squatted down to finally give his femmeling attention.   “Well now, it looks like your plush cat has somehow managed to reproduce!”   He laughed, picking up the Red Panda plush and looking it over carefully.    With his other servo, he stroked Stormbreaker’s helm and back, listening to her purr happily.   He glanced over at Daniel.   “I suppose _you_ are to blame for this?”   He asked with a wry laugh, holding the red plush up with a sly grin.

            “ _Guilty!_ ”   Daniel laughed.   “Stormy—why don’t you introduce your sire to your new friend?”   He said to the femmeling, knowing what she calls the Red Panda would probably get a good laugh out of Galvatron.

            “Isss **_osser kiddy_**!!!”  Stormbreaker said, gleefully.   “Nowwww haaaavv kiddy nnn osser kiddy!”   She added, clawing at Galvatron’s leg to try and climb into his lap.

            Galvatron laughed, the tone of his voice deep and warm.   “Now, am I to understand that she is calling this _‘other kitty’_?”  He asked, gazing over at the young human male.   “What is it actually supposed to be, as strange-looking as it is?”   He added.

            “Well, in the _‘Fuzzy Fiesta’_ show, it’s supposed to be a Red Panda—that’s a critter indigenous to the Asian regions back on Earth,” Daniel explained.

            “ _Ah_.   That singing child’s drama that my Novablaze enjoyed,” Galvatron murmured, rising to his pedes as he set the plush down and then picked up Stormbreaker by the nape of her neck.   She snuggled immediately against Galvatron’s chestplate and began purring happily.   “I take it that they are all still in their meeting?   I wonder if they have come up with any thoughts or plans on what Starscream may do or where he may be.”

            “I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but honestly—if I were Starscream, I’d pull something on the opening day of the entertainment district.   It would get the most attention, people would be concentrated there…………” Daniel said with a deep sigh.

            Galvatron stared at him, as if he had suddenly spoke an incomprehensible language.   “ _But of course he would!_   His sense of the dramatic would make him do so!”   The Decepticon Leader snarled angrily, his field suddenly whipping out and around everyone with fury.

            Novablaze leapt up, worried for Stormbreaker, who’d started crying in their sire’s arms.   Galvatron noticed his mechling’s movements and gazed down at him, puzzled as the purple-and-yellow young mech reached up towards him.   That was when Galvatron heard Stormbreaker’s crying and whimpering and he realized he’d lost control of his EM field and upset her.

            “ _Ah_.   I am alright, my Novablaze,” he said, firmly, reaching down and stroking the mechling’s helm softly.   “Even in my most intense rages, I would never harm my Stormbreaker,” he said, gently, but he still handed the femmeling to her brother and rubbed both of their helms.

            “I know, sire,” Novablaze said, softly, hugging Stormbreaker gently.

            “It may be best that I go back out and burn off some of this rage,” Galvatron responded.   He gazed over at Daniel and Slipstream.   “Should my Prime finally show up, explain to him that I will be unavailable to him today.   He would not wish to share my company in this state, even though he would do so anyways.”

            “I’ll keep him busy, anyways—I have to prepare him to be at my wedding,” Daniel chuckled, giving Galvatron a quick little salute.   “Time’s really creeping up on us—it’s just about a month after the opening of your entertainment district.   Galvatron—I did tell him he can bring a guest and though we laughed about him bringing you……….you are welcome to come with him to my wedding.   After all, you are one of the most important people in his life.”

            “Just do not cause problems, correct?”  Galvatron said with a light chuckle.   “I do not interact with fleshlings much, however this is something that might be beneficial to me one day, as my little Prime feels that my empire should one day join his precious Galactic Alliance.  I promise I shall not be any sort of problems for you, although—I am still not as enamoured of you organics as everyone else is.”

            “It’s okay, you’ll get used to it.   Doctor Jones wanted me to pass along that he found some really good stuff in your soil and rocks, he really can’t wait to share it with you,” Daniel said with a grin over at the Decepticon Leader.

            “ _Tch. **Him**._    Thank whatever gods there are that not all fleshlings are overly energetic like him,” Galvatron groaned, facepalming himself.   “However, he saved my Stormbreaker’s plush cat, so I very much owe him a modicum of respect.”

            Daniel smiled.   Galvatron was changing, becoming better—just like Hot Rod had said.   And for as long as the young human from Earth had known the flame-colored mech, his very best friend had gotten better as well.  The two of them truly had changed one another over the years—it was a good thing for both of them.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            In the depths of Fortress Maximus—an important meeting was going on.   Those who were present were a very interesting and odd compilation of Transformers.   Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus were both there, representing the interests of the Autobots.   Onslaught and Blast Off were there, to represent the Decepticon Empire from the most military of standpoints.   Deszaras was there, as the Decepticon who’d had the most encounters with Starscream’s Destron Army—as he’d undertaken Hot Rod’s task of finding all the lost soldiers of both sides out on the frontier.   Cerebros was there, as some of the future security might rely on him and Fortress Maximus—and their brand-new bond.   And Hot Rod was there, to mediate all sides in this war conference.

            “I know that it would be the obvious strategy to dump all the security into the entertainment complex when it opens, but as I’ve worked with Starscream in the past—he’d realize this and he’d do something else,” Onslaught said, firmly, looking at the 3-D holomap above the conference table.   “He might plan his assault for that day, but he won’t attack there.”

            Hot Rod laced his fingers and rested his chin on the intertwined servos.   “ _Hmmm_.   I see what you’re getting at—he’ll gamble at the mass of security and people at the entertainment center, so he may want to attack somewhere else.   But Chaar doesn’t have a lot yet…………the palace, the habitation area and the embassy,” the flame-colored mech murmured, gazing at the highlighted areas as he named them on the holomap.

            “ _The embassy_ ,” Deszaras murmured.   “That would actually be my bet.   It would be poetic—and that would be Starscream’s way.”

            “How so?”  Optimus Prime asked, gazing over at the old elite soldier.

            “It’s an Autobot outpost within a Decepticon Empire—Starscream would simply hate that to begin with,” the silver-and-blue mech responded, leaning back in his chair.   “Hot Rod is also one of the other reasons—and for that, there’s a dozen reasons attached to the fact of Hot Rod’s continued existence.   His goal of peace, his goal of being in the Galactic Alliance—both Autobots and Decepticons—and how he inspires all around him……….there’s more that I can say, but I think that should be good enough.”

            “ _Oh Primus_ ………” Hot Rod groaned, unlacing his fingers and buring his face in his hands.   “Yeah, I can see Starscream making the embassy a target.   How about we do this……..?   Cerebros, would you and Max want to plant yourselves here between the embassy and the palace?”

            Cerebros tilted his head down and touched his audial gently.   There was a faint warbling, exchanged between the grey-and-black mech and the fortress around them, sounds both light and deeper.   “He says it should be alright—he’s rather used to sitting around and waiting for things.   Those Mini-Cons that like you so much, they’ve been having fun talking to him since he got here, so he’s enjoyed himself,” Cerebros answered.

            “ _Good_.   At least we’ve accomplished **_that much_** today,” Hot Rod chuckled.

            “Starscream’s not above altering his strategy, either,” Optimus Prime began, gazing around at everyone at the table.   “If he notices that there’s more security where he thought there would be less, he would look for another focused target.   It is certain he **_will_** cause some trouble in the entertainment district, even if for the purposes of distraction.   Therefore, make sure there’s security in the habitation block area—as the very least likely target, he may choose that should he see everywhere else has too much focus on security.”

            “That’s a right observation there—looking at it from that particular perspective, the habitation area may be mostly uninhabited that day, but destroying something _good_ is not beneath Starscream,” Blast Off grumbled, annoyed at the former Decepticon Second-in-Command for his own personal reasons.   “Here’s also something to consider—he may not drop out of the skies in his assault, either.   That’s very obvious and he’d do it only for distraction purposes.”   Then the Combaticons’ Second-in-Command looked over at Hot Rod.   “You said that you’d overheard their mobile base— _Scorponok_ —has three modes.   We’re aware of the base mode and you said it sounded like there was a robot mode and something called a _‘battle mode’_.   That is an interesting observation, as we generally perform combat in our primary— _robot_ —modes, for most of us anyways…………then also sometimes in our alt mode, if it has a combat-ready form.   So, unlike other titan mechs……….the _‘battle mode’_ can’t be another general stationary form—it **_must_** be something that can move and can fight.”

            “Let’s make an assumption based upon the name of the base.   Hot Rod once saw the glyphs for _‘devastation’_ and _‘stinger’_ representing the name of _‘Scorponok’_ ,” Star Saber said, leaning forwards and folding his servos together on the table.   “It _must_ be a beast mode—a scorpion, perhaps?”   He postulated, gazing around the table.

            Onslaught pounded a fist into his palm and then pointed at Star Saber.   “That’s brilliant and probably an absolutely correct assumption!   But _how far_ will Starscream take the scorpion angle?”   The commander of the Combaticons murmured, raising a servo to rub his chin thoughtfully.   “For the time we were upon Earth, we noticed this particular creature did not only have a deadly long-stinger-tail, but it could burrow beneath the ground.   Would Starscream go that far?   Somehow stealthily get to Chaar with this mobile base and bury Scorponok beneath us for a surprise assault, wherever he turns up?”   He postulated.

            “ _Ugh. **He would**_ ,” Hot Rod groaned.   “ _Nnnngh_ …………Onslaught, do we have any Decepticons on Chaar that are geologists or seismologists?”

            “Quake—the one that just came with Captain Deszaras from Bartz,” the administration officer responded.   “I know he doesn’t look it and he’s mostly a warrior, but he’s a _‘terrain specialist’_ according to his personnel interview and files.”

            “I’ll make some time to talk to him, then,” the young, flame-colored mech responded.

            “Let me postulate, that if a ground-based assault were to happen—Starscream would also try to come in through the southern hemisphere,” Ultra Magnus piped in, gaining the attention of all at the table.   “There’s little-to-no exploration on the southern hemisphere of Chaar—this invites a likely avenue to a secretive infiltration of the planet, especially if this Scorponok can possibly burrow beneath the ground.”

            “That is a point well-taken,” Onslaught responded, nodding at the Autobots’ Second-in-Command.   “Given that postulation—they may implant themselves early, before the opening of the entertainment district, if that is their goal.   This is getting too complicated, Hot Rod.   I hope we’re wrong they’re going to do it on the opening day of the entertainment district—I’d like for one thing to go right in this empire.”

            “Man, so do I, Onslaught,” Hot Rod groaned.

            “Let’s do a little more planning out and evaluation, then we’ll wrap this up for the day,” Star Saber said, nodding around at everyone at the table.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Hot Rod returned to the embassy and saw the crowd in the seating area.   At least the public lounge area was being used for what it was _supposed_ to be used for, it was just amusing that it still tended to be mostly **_staff_** using it right now.   Hopefully, once the entertainment district officially opened, there’d be more Autobots in and out of here—Blurr had already promised he’d be back, because he’d wanted to race on the track.   And once a few Autobots had been here, word would spread that it “ _wasn’t so bad on Chaar, really_ ”—at least, that’s what Hot Rod was **_hoping_** for.

            The flame-colored mech turned his path over to the large public lounge area and placed his palms on the back of the couch behind Daniel.

            “Hey, bro………so, what are we all doing?”  Hot Rod asked with a soft chuckle.

            “Everyone’s taking turns telling stories from their past,” Daniel responded with a soft smile as he tilted his head up to look at the Transformer he considered his “ _big brother_ ”.   “It’s pretty fun to hear stories from the Decepticons—as I’ve only ever grown up with stories from Autobots…….and those mostly came from Kup.”

            “Is it just me…………or did Storm’s kitty multiply?” Hot Rod murmured, grinning down at the young man.   “And Galvatron accuses **_me_** of spoiling her.”

            “Hey, I am entitled to spoil my _‘niece’_ ,” Daniel laughed, warmly.   “She apparently likes _‘bedtime stories’_ , too, she fell asleep after the first one.”

            “I’ll need to remember that,” the flame-colored mech responded.

            “Mind if I steal some of your time, bro?”   The young human man asked.  “Galvatron said he needs a night off, too.   He’s not in a pleasant mood and doesn’t want to subject you to another one of those right now.”

            “Sure, let’s go.   It looks like everyone will be occupied for awhile longer,” Hot Rod lowered an arm to let Daniel climb onto it.   Then he took the both of them upstairs to his office.   He was surprised _not_ to be mobbed by the Mini-Cons, but they must still be talking with Fortress Maximus.   “So, Galvatron was here earlier?”   He asked, as soon as Daniel sat down in a chair far too big for him and he hopped up to the edge of his desk to sit.

            “ _Yeah_.   I think he’s finally aware that Starscream’s assault may have really poor timing,” Daniel sighed, leaning far back into the back of the chair and drawing his legs into a cross-legged position.   “So, it’s got him a bit pissed off today and I guess you’ve had a bit of that lately—so, he wanted to give you a break today.”

            “I’ve gotten better at dealing with him when he rages,” Hot Rod answered with a wry smile.   “Danny…………there’s………….you know that we don’t hide things from each other, so I want you to know this.   But………..it’s a secret only Galvatron is aware of right now, because of our Spark-bond and the data-‘facing we do.”

            “It’s something that’s going to bring painful decisions soon enough, hunh?”  Daniel asked, looking up at the flame-colored mech.

            “We don’t know when or how or _what_ it actually means………….but I’ve spoken with a former leader inside of the Matrix, Arrowshot—to describe him is difficult, but in simple terms, he is the first mech who held the Matrix of Leadership in a capacity that we might consider him a leader.   He’s neither Autobot, nor Decepticon—he’s a military hardware model, from a time before brands,” Hot Rod began, trying to choose his words carefully and wisely.   “I’ve encountered him several times when I’ve communed with the Matrix and recently he’s told me a few things that I had not realized or comprehended the full meaning of it.   Remember what I told you about what I can remember of my birth?   Coming out of Vector Sigma’s chamber?”

            Daniel nodded.   He relaxed his body into a loose yoga position so his muscles didn’t tense up, as he thought he might suddenly get emotionally worked up shortly.

            “I always believed I was _alone_ , from the moment of my birth—never understanding why I was alone coming out of Vector Sigma’s chamber, when all others were forged in groups,” Hot Rod said, quietly.   “But I was forged for a _specific purpose_ —all of Vector Sigma’s attention went into my design, so there was no room to forge a group, this is what Arrowshot told me.   He said I broke, though—and I was never meant to break.   I was meant to be Autobot Leader for hundreds of years and bring peace and changes to our race.”

            “That would be why the Matrix chose you to begin with— _you were forged to bear it_ ,” Daniel murmured, reaching up to rub his chin, thoughtfully.   “ ** _Ugh_** , and everyone treated you like such a bother that you didn’t have the confidence you needed when your time came.   Even _Optimus_ couldn’t recognize the fact you were born to bear the Matrix!   But now you **_do_** have that confidence, Galvatron………. ** _oh_**.   It was _Galvatron_ that you needed!   Everything makes so much sense now—that’s why you and Galvatron are such a great match for each other!”   He gasped, pounding a fist into a palm energetically.

            “I’m going to bear the Matrix again.   I don’t know when and I don’t want it to be because Optimus dies again—so, of course, this is why only Galvatron and I really know about it now.  I would normally tell Magnus, but I don’t know how he’d react to that kind of information,” Hot Rod explained, carefully.

            “ _Hmmm_.   Yeah, and I see why you don’t want me spreading this about either,” the young man sighed softly.   “Do you think Optimus is going to die again?”  He asked, a little bit of worry in his voice.

            “I don’t know.   _I really hope not_ ………I hope………..because it’s essentially a peacetime era………that maybe we can co-lead or something,” Hot Rod murmured.   “I think, with all the _‘ground’_ the Autobots cover now……..we need administrators in various locations.   Optimus would work well on Earth, just as Magnus does on Cybertron.”

            “Yeah, I see, but peacetime……..with Starscream out there?” Daniel grunted, folding his arms across his chest with annoyance.

            “ _Ugh_ , I know, but…………” Hot Rod groaned, reaching up to rub his forehead soothingly.   “Arrowshot told me to allow Optimus to refill the Matrix and then I’d take it from there, but from something Galvatron said to me a little while ago—it was when Starscream was holding me captive—he thought it sounded like the Matrix was getting energy back when he spoke to Optimus.   If it’s getting energy back _that quickly_ , I may be getting it back sooner than later.”

            “Okay.  I get all that.   But _why_?”   Daniel asked, tilting his head curiously up at his best friend.

            “I think……..I think it’s because I can **_communicate_**.   Because communication is my forte!”   Hot Rod said, excitedly.   “I started my communication with the universe by getting the Autobots into the Galactic Alliance.   Right now, it’s a bit slow, but it’s moving that way…………I’m going to get the galaxy to see how right it is to have the Decepticons in the Galactic Alliance, too.   The thing to remember is that to the rest of the universe, they see the _‘heritage object’_ of us Autobots as a symbol of leadership—so to the majority of the Galactic Alliance, the Autobot Leader is the one holding the Matrix.   And lots of worlds hold a similar ideal for their leaders.”   Hot Rod brought his servos together and steepled them beneath his chin.   “As Hot Rod—as I’m _not_ in charge right now—there are probably worlds that don’t hold the respect for me that they would have when I was once Rodimus Prime.   I think that……….Vector Sigma and the one he represents, _the Alpha Sentinel_ , understands that the Transformers race needs a _‘galactic translator’_ for the sake of the rest of the universe.”

            “Alpha Sentinel?”  Daniel asked, his brows furrowing.

            “ ** _Oh_**.  _Uh_ , yeah—that’s another really big box of fun to open up,” Hot Rod laughed, the tone in his vocalizer a bit wry and amused.   “You’ve heard that we sometimes talk about a _‘god’_ named Primus, right?   Well, it may not just be religious fiction to have gotten our ancestors through rough times—there may _actually_ be a Primus, just that he’s not a _‘god’_ , just a larger version of a Transformer created by the Quintessons.”

            “Larger version……..?”  Daniel murmured, his brain trying to accept the information.   Then it came to his attention like slamming into a wall.  “You’re not serious?   You really think that Cybertron can………….transform?”   The young human man gasped softly, staring up into his best friend’s faceplate.

            “ _Maybe_.   Or maybe he’s too old and can’t anymore.   Max said he had a few issues with his transformation-cog……….and the Alpha Sentinel is much, _much_ older,” Hot Rod sighed, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.   “This is all kind of new to me, too.   But when Galvatron and I talked about…………what might happen………”

            “In bed?”  Daniel laughed, grinning up at his “ _big brother_ ” fondly.

            “That’s about where half our talking takes place,” the flame-colored mech laughed warmly.   “He said Chaar will always be a home for me to return to, no matter how far my path takes me.  Onslaught said the same when I said to him I may need to travel more in the future.”

            “Most of the Decepticons have really come to like you—and that’s because you **_are_** a good communicator, or at least, you’ve learned to be one,” the young human man said, nodding gently.   “Even before you say it—you’re worried about Novablaze and Stormbreaker, aren’t you?”   He asked.

            “Yeah.   I don’t know when, but I keep feeling like it may be _‘soon’_.   **_I_** …….it’s different than when I was leader before.   With Nova.   Mine and Galvatron’s odd relationship was a given and the way we were apart and did our things was accepted as the way it was.   But Nova’s learning to be a warrior now and I can see it in his optics— _this_ is what is the right path for him.   I can’t take him from Galvatron now,” Hot Rod said with a very deep sigh, crossing his arms over his chestplate and staring at the floor.   “But there’s Storm and this is very different for her—all she has ever known is Chaar.   Snuggling against Galvatron’s chestplate and hugging him, but she’s still young and still needs me in some capacity—and Galvatron simply _can’t_ give her that attention which I do, no matter how very fond of her that he is.”

            “Can _you_ give her that attention should things change, though?”  Daniel asked, quietly.

            “I’m worried about that, too.   But…………..if this thing means Optimus will still live—having him administrate on Earth for me, with Magnus so very capable already on Cybertron……..it means **_I_** can interact with the Galactic Alliance—and **_that’s_** where I need to be,” Hot Rod murmured, softly.   “Can she adapt to a travelling life?”  He mused, shaking his head slowly.  “Or do I leave her behind—trust everyone else on Chaar to watch over her when Galvatron’s too busy to give her the attention she needs?   I have lots of babysitters already, but this is more than an hour, or a day or even a couple of days…………” he sighed, the tone in his vocalizer sounding very sad.

            “ _You’d_ miss her, too,” Daniel said, smiling up at him.

            “I would.   _So much_.   She’s……….I love Nova, too, but Stormbreaker’s so much more a part of me than he was—everything we’ve been through together,” the flame-colored mech whispered.   “Even if I thought it best to leave her behind, _I don’t want to_ ………..I **_really_** don’t want to.   But I’d be taking her into a world of strangers…………. _so many strangers_!   Like how Nova didn’t know the Decepticons, Storm doesn’t know the Autobots.   Her attachment to Galvatron is………….well, I think there’s going to be a lot of crying if we have to part ways and they won’t all be my tears.   She’s so young and how do I get her to understand it’s just a change in ways—I’m not taking her sire away from her forever?”

            “ _Yeah_.   I see that quandary.   It isn’t like you’re divorcing, your jobs are just taking you in different directions.   Things like that are always the hardest on children, because even if they say they understand—they don’t really understand, not until they’re older,” the young human man responded, nodding his head with understanding.   “I don’t think there’s an easy answer and I don’t think there’s a completely favorable solution—Stormbreaker will have to learn to adapt, that’s the truth of the situation.   Whichever answer you choose for her, she’ll have to adapt without the daily attentions of either her sire or her carrier.”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            And soon enough, the months had passed and the opening day of the entertainment district was finally here.   Two shuttles came in from Cybertron with Decepticons from the sanctuary city of Kesia, as well as a couple dozen Autobots.   And while it would’ve been nice to have invited some of the human allies of Earth, some of the members of the Galactic Alliance and whatnot—no one thought it very practical right now, as they still had no idea if Starscream would use the advantage of the day to try and attack Chaar.   It was better to have guests who could be able-bodied fighters, if necessary.

            Quake had been given the task of checking for any sort of seismic activity.   The Decepticon was honestly happy to have been given a task that suited his skills, because he otherwise felt like he didn’t really fit in anywhere right now—even though he was still staying at the embassy.   So the dark-colored Decepticon usually went out in his alt mode during the day and took readings from all around the area of the habitation blocks, the palace, the embassy and the entertainment district.   He’d come back late in the day and just sit in the public seating lounge and view all the data he’d collected.

            The lonely Decepticon hadn’t encountered any unusual issues in the seismic status of Chaar or anything else, but he kept an eye on things nonetheless.   So, on the opening day of the entertainment district, he was off on his regular trails through the areas, checking for seismic activity.

            But Quake wasn’t the only one not at the opening of the entertainment district.   Cerebros was remaining with Fortress Maximus, planted in an empty area between the palace and the embassy.   Scourge and the Sweeps were prowling around the palace.   Blast Off had a minimal force patrolling around the habitation area.  Twinferno and the Decepticon twins were at the embassy.

            So, when the attack did come—it was something of a two-pronged assault.   And was nearly as the small war council Hot Rod had had been predicting.   A force attacked at the entertainment district, even as Scorponok came from beneath the ground near the embassy.   And it was chaos within moments!

            But everyone was ready to break away from what they were doing to start engaging Starscream’s forces.    Even if some people were in the middle of a race…………..!

            Admittedly, Starscream did go on with his two-pronged assault rather creatively.   Rather than take the command of the main part of the forces attacking the entertainment district—Starscream allowed Sky Shadow and Greatshot to do that—he took a small force, his monsters, and went after the embassy with Scorponok.

            Scorponok erupted from the ground right past the palace, in scorpion form and began lashing about with its tail to try and swipe the palace as it focused towards the embassy.   Galvatron was there in a shot—because Starscream was there and he knew there were plenty of forces to deal with everything at the entertainment district.

            Galvatron roared in battle and opened up his boot thrusters to full speed to get in there and grabbed Scorponok’s tail, using the momentum of his flight to drag the massive scorpion-like mech away from the palace some feet.   He also used his nova cannon to send a volley of piercer shots along the backside of the scorpion.

            “Well, now that I have you here all alone, Galvatron………….we can have some real fun!”  Starscream chortled.   “ _Pretender Monsters—combine into Monstructor!_ ”   Starscream ordered, sharply, making a motion to the organic-looking monsters on the ground, who were all were rushing towards the embassy.   “Scorponok, focus on the embassy—Galvatron will be kept occupied!”

            The titan-sized scorpion mech made a rumbling sound and turned towards the Autobot Embassy and ignored the palace he was about to mess with.   Meanwhile the small monsters near his spindly legs were starting to move together, as a hunting pack would and they emerged from the organic-looking shells as something of a subspace emergence—looking more like monster-frame mechs, right before they merged together into a gestalt.

            Galvatron howled as he rocketed straight towards Starscream, his nova cannon charging for a massive blast.   He ignored everything else around him and just made Starscream his one-and-only target.

            Twinferno, Pounce and Wingspan were immediately standing outside the embassy when Monstructor came rushing at the building.  

            “Not sure if the three of us can hold against a gestalt, but let’s protect our home!”   Twinferno ordered to his lovers.   He transformed into his alt mode, a twin-headed dragon that was taller and bulkier than his normal frame, one head began spitting plasma fire and the other head began spitting cryogenic spray.

            Pounce and Wingspan also transformed into their beast modes and began attacking as a well-coordinated pair.

            “ _I will assist!_ ”   A new voice said, sharply, as a huge and bulky frame landed near Twinferno.   It was the unbranded Jiyuuishin, Dai Atlas.   He had his sword out fast and moved into combat like a natural.   He might still be smaller than a gestalt, but he was fast for the size of his frame, and very skilled.

            Monstructor howed with pain as Dai Atlas swiped and speared at the monster-combined mech with his greatsword.

            “Dai Atlas—you keep making cuts and I’ll keep aggravating them,” Twinferno’s left head barked, even as his right head sprayed thick cryogenic foam into the wound freshly made.   “Now we just have to hope Cerebros and Max can handle the titan-sized scorpion…………” the former Autobot spy murmured.   “ _You two_ —keep back, don’t do anything foolish!   I’ll coddle you just as much if you’re healthy—so don’t get injured for attention!”   He snapped as he noticed the twins taking too many risks in attacking the gestalt.

            Scorponok loomed and charged up something as his tail lifted and the point of it glowed fiercely.   Just then, the ground rumbled as the blue-and-grey basecenter shook and altered its form.   Slowly, with the great unlimbering of time, joints began unlocking and moving—until there stood a massive titan mech.   A black-and-grey mech altered its shape, to become the head module of the titan.   A surge of energy rippled along the frame and the titan mech swept a massive arm down to grab the titan scorpion’s tail and deflected the energy blast up into the sky.   Then Fortress Maximus swung around, using his other servo to grab an area around Scorponok’s abdomen and flipped the titan mech to the ground, upsidedown on its back.

            Scorponok waved he’s thin, spindly legs rapidly for a few moments, before deciding this wasn’t the best mode for battle.   His frame altered and changed, briefly going into the base-mode form, before changing into a titan-sized robot form.   The two titans immediately began to crash in hand-to-hand combat.   Scorponok wasn’t paying much attention to the ground beneath him, but Fortress Maximus was—it was the benefit of having two minds.

            Galvatron was like a focused wolf on its prey as his optics had no other focus but for Starscream in front of him.

            “Honestly, you fight so hard with me, I think you might still like me, Galvatron—we were pretty good, you and I,” Starscream chuckled.   Galvatron blocked a sword-swing with his cannon.   “When you weren’t knocking out my relays or trying to rip off my arms, you used to frag me pretty good, I’ll admit.”

            “I refuse to be riled by your taunts, Starscream,” Galvatron growled.   He focused on fighting, because he knew if he got distracted and began arguing with Starscream’s words—he’d lose control of the situation.   And while Hot Rod would just sigh and pat his shoulder somewhat condescendingly, Cyclonus would outright point out the flaws in his “ _battle strategy_ ”.   No, Galvatron would focus on destroying this pain in his aft for once and for all!

            Meanwhile, in the entertainment district, it was nothing but weapons and bodies and combat everywhere……………..

            The Stunticons were immediately pissed that the race was interrupted—granted, only Dragstrip, Wildrider and Dead End were participating in the current race, the others were just pissed off enough to see the race interrupted.   Hot Rod was immediately off into combat even before the first shots landed on the track.   Swindle was already infurated that his wonderful array of storefronts were getting smashed up before great sales could be made.   The Decepticons were rightfully angry, even though they were completely prepared, over this situation.

            The Autobots that were visiting, joined in the combat immediately.

            “Let’s see—we’ve got Liokaiser on the battlefield and Sky Shadow directing traffic,” Hot Rod snapped, his battle visor down to eye the situation.   He, Onslaught, and Sixshot had headed up to the observation tower of the track to get a broader view of the situation.   “Menasaor can start taking on Liokaiser, but it might be best to have a second gestalt ready to fight.   That other big guy must be Greatshot—the Autobot that joined up with Starscream.   He’s got some good numbers here, but no filler species…………like we speculated,” the flame-colored mech said to Onslaught and Sixshot beside him.

            “He might be saving those for the assault on Cybertron,” Onslaught said with a grunt.   “Wait, I’m getting a glyph from Lord Galvatron.   Well, _Pit take us all_ ………….” he groaned.

            “What data are you getting?   Surprising that Galvatron’s forwarding anything if he’s involved with Starscream………” Hot Rod asked.

            “The two titans are engaged, but there’s a _second gestalt_ ,” the commander of the Combaticons answered.   “Hot Rod—you conduct the battle here, but the Combaticons and I will go after this other gestalt.   If you need another gestalt out into the fray, take the Seacons over the Terrorcons.”

            “All right, be careful!”   The flame-colored mech called after the Decepticon officer.   Then he raised a servo to his audial and sent a communique out to the Seacons, requesting their assistance against Liokaiser.   “I know, generals don’t join battles, but I’m going nuts standing here in this observation booth.”

            “Easy there, kiddo, here—as I recall, _you’re_ a sharpshooter,” Sixshot chuckled softly.  He pulled a heavy sniper rifle out from subspace and handed it to Hot Rod.   “Now, Ultra Magnus is protecting your kids and Slipstream, they’re in good hands—and in a safe place.   You start sniping off targets you can hit…….I’ll cover your location,” the old Decepticon warrior said.   “Keep us updated with any info you find useful during combat.”

            With that, Sixshot leapt out the window of the racetrack observation booth and started flying around in his jet alt mode, laying down cover fire around the track area.   Hot Rod began scanning targets and when he got a good shot towards debilitating an opponent, he took it.

            As always, intense combat went on for hours, but by the time it was winding down—most people thought it was pretty fast.

            In the area out by the embassy, Fortress Maximus had wrestled Scorponok out into an uninhabited area and was just pounding the scrap out of the Destron titan mech.   Bruticus had arrived and engaged in combat with Monstructor, being warned that the Destron gestalt had a strange acidic ability—it not just melted armour and derma, but it had some sort of electrical charge—perhaps to activate the ability of the acidic substance to melt things.   So any other combatant had been warned to stay back from the combat and Bruticus was being extremely careful.

            When he could, Dai Atlas would still make some cuts on the Destron gestalt, which Twinferno would fill with cryogenic foam or plasma fire—but the gestalt seemed unperterbed by the attacks of anyone.   It reminded Onslaught of all the particular data that Deszaras had brought to them of the way Liokaiser originally was—as if their pain receptors and full-sensory array were “ _switched off_ ”.   Onslaught fought not to get distracted, so that he could keep his fellow Combaticons merged as Bruticus.

            “Whether this monster is feeling damage or not, it is receiving damage—and it cannot feasibly hold out forever against such damage,” Dai Atlas said, standing in a ready battle stance next to Twinferno.

            “Indeed,” the former Autobot spy grumbled, the sound of the voice coming from the vocalizers of both dragon heads and echoing oddly.   “This is more or less a battle of attrition!   Max seems to have Scorponok well under control and it looks like Galvatron and Starscream’s combat is drifting further from this area.”

            “Now we must hope the main combat force in the entertainment district is being handled as well as this,” the mech from Jiyuuishin responded with a nod.

            Galvatron roared a fierce battle cry of triumph as he slammed right into Starscream and knocked the colorful mech into the center of the racetrack.   He hovered high in the sky and began charging his nova cannon.

            “Oh, Primus—he’s going to take out the whole track!   _Our kids are down there!_ ”  Hot Rod snapped, reaching up to tap his audial.

            **[Galvatron!   Stop!   Our brats and others are down there!]**   Hot Rod’s communique said, the tone of it sounding very wild and upset.

            **[I only plan on hitting Starscream, now shut up, Prime!]**   Came Galvatron’s furious response.

            **[Galvatron, you’ll take out the entire track with that much power charged up!]**    Hot Rod pleaded.   He popped open the window and was gauging the distance to see if he could boost-leap over there to stop his lover from firing that decimating shot.   But before he could move, Galvatron had fired down at Starscream, lying in a trembling heap on the broken track.

            Just then, Liokaiser dashed into the way and took the full force hit of Galvatron’s plasma blast right in the center of his chest.   Metal squealed and shattered as Liokaiser crashed to the ground a few feet from Starscream, who was struggling to his pedes.   The Destron gestalt broke into all six component mechs when it hit the ground………..Hellbat, Gaihawk, Killbison, Drillhorn and Jaruga all managed to shakily get to their pedes and surround Starscream protectively.   But Leozak wasn’t moving—he was making sounds, barely, but not moving at all.   A massive hole was in his chest and abdomen and he was gushing blood.

            Starscream gazed down at his soldier and sneered.   “I told you once before— _a soft Spark is a terrible weakness_.  And I will not have weakness in my army.   Good-bye, Leozak,” the Destron commander hissed, raising an arm and charging up his arm-mounted laser weapon quickly.

            Just then, a swift purple blurr flew out of nowhere and slashed upwards at Starscream’s arm, cutting it off at the wrist and cutting off part of the arm-mounted laser weapon.   Novablaze crouched protectively in between Leozak and Starscream, his dark blue optics glowing fiercely and steam curling from around his warrior’s facial shield—the young mech was in his full-battle mode and consumed by fury, much like his sire in battle.

            “It’s **_you_**.   You’re Galvatron’s little brat—the first one,” Starscream hissed, pulling his injured arm back.   Just then he tilted his head as he heard a communique from his partner aboard the _Shadowstalker_.   “ _Gah_.   We’ve been routed, dammit,” he grunted, angrily.   He sent a glyph message to all units to retreat—either to the _Shadowstalker_ or to Scorponok.   “I’ll be more wary of you next time, child.   All units retreat!”   Starscream called at a loud tone for any units within audial range—basically to make the retreat more formal than the glyph message sent.

            Then the Destrons all retreated, except the badly wounded Leozak and…………

            A swift shadow suddenly swiped Novablaze away from Leozak’s body and crouched over it, growling ferociously.   Then the massive monster-lizard-mech threw back his head and let out a shattering roar.

            “ _Oh Primus, **Nova**!_”   Hot Rod gasped, at his youngling’s side in an instant.   “ _Nova, Nova!_    **_Can you hear me?!_** ”   The flame-colored mech said, anxiously, checking the youngling for any injuries.

            “’M’fin…….jus…….dizzy……” Novablaze mumbled, curling into his carrier’s arms for comfort.

            Just then, Galvatron was on the ground, standing protectively over Hot Rod and Novablaze and he roared back at the creature.   The Emperor of the Decepticons and the massive monster-lizard mech began a roaring, growling, hissing match to dominate each other—each one of them staying protectively before the beings they were each trying to protect.   It was at the same time both scary as hell and utterly laughable.

            Hot Rod looked up at the creature and saw armour patterns that looked strangely familiar.   But………. _that couldn’t be_ , could it?   That’s a hell of a size differentiation from the mode he was most familiar with!   This creature almost reminded him of Godzilla, from those monster movies on Earth, just with a longer snout and larger teeth.   The flame-colored mech laid Novablaze down carefully and stood up, moving in front of Galvatron, who was just about to grab him back and snarl at his little lover to stay out of the way when………..

            “ _Rawjaw_?   Is that you?   Is this your Sharkticon alt mode?”  Hot Rod asked, looking up at the monster.   The monster lowered its head and snorted at the flame-colored mech angrily.   “Look, we’re _not_ going to hurt Leozak—we’ll try to help him………… _to fix him_!”

            Rawjaw snorted again and then roared right in front of Hot Rod—who bravely held his ground, but Galvatron behind him roared and snarled at the giant monster mech again, infuriated at its threats towards his little lover.

            By that time, the crowds had gathered all around the track and Hook had slowly tried to creep forwards, knowing his medical expertise would be needed shortly.   Rawjaw’s head whipped about and he roared at Hook threateningly as well.   Galvatron lunged forwards and slammed a fist on the monster mech’s snout and roared at him again.

            “Back down, creature—I **_command_** you to back down now, so that my agents can do what they must to fix your wounded ally,” Galvatron growled fiercely, holding the gaze of the monster mech steadily and not wavering.

            Rawjaw gave a rumbling growl and raised himself up onto his two-legged mode, he gave a final snort and transformed into his primary mode and knelt before Galvatron submissively.

            “ _Very good_.   Hook, see to the Destron’s injuries,” Galvatron responded, lightly patting Rawjaw’s head.   “I swear Prime, you are simply asking for a beatdown, are you not?!   If this is what you wish, then come to my berthroom and I will give you the violence you desire without the threat of death—but **_never_** get in my way when I am trying to handle a situation!”  The purple-and-grey mech growled down at the flame-colored mech in front of him.

            “ _Handle a situation!?_    If Liokaiser hadn’t gotten in the way of your blast, it would’ve taken out half of the track—including our kids and Magnus and the others!”  Hot Rod yelled up at his powerful lover, angry that Galvatron would even take that risk.

            “It was going to be a goddamned piercer shot—not a widespread beam of destruction!”   Galvatron argued back, bringing his face close to the smaller mech’s.

            “You have too much power!   _You don’t know………!!!_ ”   Hot Rod snapped, getting cut off by Galvatron’s lips landing on his.   He was still angry, but he couldn’t be too angry at Galvatron anymore when his own frame was begging for a fragging.   “ _Okay_.   As soon as I get everything handled out here, I’ll report to the palace.   Before you go……..would you go see Novablaze and look in on Stormbreaker?   Nova was amazingly brave, but he might’ve been a little scared too and I don’t think Storm took this easily…………” the flame-colored mech murmured, trailing off and lightly patting his servos on his lover’s broad chest.

            “ _Of course_.   Now settle down, we have won today, despite how things look,” Galvatron responded, lightly patting Hot Rod’s head.   He turned and walked over to where Novablaze was, the youngling had sat up and was rubbing his helm gently.   Bonecrusher had knelt beside him and was checking him out.   The powerful Emperor of the Decepticons squatted down and grinned at his youngling.

            “You were amazing, my Novablaze.  Truly, one day you shall become a warrior with no peer.  How do you feel?”   Galvatron asked with a smile at his youngling.

            “Dazed.   _Wow_ ……….that’s real combat?”   Novablaze murmured.

            “A small taste of it, yes.   But I am afraid your carrier will wish to lecture you for not remaining in Ultra Magnus’ care,” the purple-and-grey mech chortled.   “I must go see to your sibling.   Do as the medics tell you.”

            “Yes sire,” Novablaze said, ducking his head shyly.

            Galvatron stood up and walked over to where Ultra Magnus was talking with Slipstream and clearly trying to calm a whimpering little femmeling.   Galvatron merely stopped a foot in front of them both, reached over and plucked the small red-colored femme out of Slipstream’s arms and placed her in the crook of his arm.   Stormbreaker burrowed immediately against her sire’s chest, mewling the mangled form of his parental designation to her (that would be “ _sire_ ”), over-and-over again.

            “She has my Prime’s kind Spark—combat does not suit her sensitivities,” Galvatron said firmly, reaching down and stroking her head gently.

            “My apologies that I could not keep a hold of Novablaze, Galvatron,” Ultra Magnus said with a deep sigh.

            “You have nothing to apologize for, Ultra Magnus.   Clearly he has the worst possible combination of mine and my Prime’s characteristics—my ferocity and my Prime’s need to rush in to save lives even at the expense of his own,” the Emperor of the Decepticons said with a soft chuckle.   “He will one day be an emotional menace to both Autobots and Decepticons, that I can say with certainty.”

            “Well, I hope that he also inherits your undoubtable strength, if he’s going to inherit both of _those_ traits,” Ultra Magnus said with a wry smile.   “I shall go assist Hot Rod in directing clean up and dealing with the aftermath.”

            “Do so.   I appreciate it,” Galvatron said.   “Slipstream, I thank you for protecting my spawn.”

            “Of course, Lord Galvatron.   Your children are always a delight to take care of,” the Decepticon femme responded with a smile and a dip of her shoulders with the steepled hand-gesture she learned at the convent.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Cyclonus was pacing in the lobby area of the palace and Hot Rod knew what that was generally a sign of.  The flame-colored mech walked over with a sigh, reached up and pulled Cyclonus’ helm down to meet his.

            “I’m sorry, Cyclonus.   Is he still upset?”   Hot Rod asked, softly, shyly looking into the taller mech’s red optics.

            “ _Tch_.   You always assume the worst.   I have not been rage-fragged today,” the warrior scoffed.  “I have been awaiting you to come so that I may get to some assignments I suddenly have piled up in front of me.”

            “ _Oh_ ,” Hot Rod murmured, pulling away from the Decepticon shyly.   “I’ve asked Hook to have Leozak moved to the embassy once he’s recovered from surgery.   As there’s a neutral area in the embassy, he might be safest and more comfortable there.   Rawjaw seems glued to his side—which is very strange, as I thought that Sharkticon was completely loyal to Raj-ur-Malekk.  He doesn’t speak modern Cybertronian, but Leozak murmured something about the Sharkticon speaking some Old High Cybertronian.”

            “As I have observed, Sharkticons have their own ideas of loyalty and camaraderie—which may not always align with their Quintesson masters.   Leozak may have done something to have won this Sharkticon’s admiration recently,” Cyclonus responded, folding his arms across his chest.   “Lord Galvatron is in a somewhat agreeable mood tonight, so it is something you should take clear advantage of.”

            “ _Ah-ha-ha!_    Okay, okay……….I get it,” Hot Rod laughed.  “Cyclonus—try not to work too hard, okay?  Starscream will be licking his wounds for a bit and trying to plan a new assault somewhere else.”

            “This is true, but we have much data to go over that we have acquired from this battle today,” the purple-and-grey mech responded.   “So, you may dally _tonight_ , but we must evaluate all of this soon—for you and Lord Galvatron will be attending your human ally’s bonding ceremony within the next four weeks.”

            “Got it:  _dally tonight—work tomorrow_ ,” the flame-colored mech chuckled.   “Thanks Cyclonus.   And remember, don’t work too hard!”   He called after the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command as he turned and went to Galvatron’s berthroom.

            Galvatron was come in through the doorway from his bathing room, the beaded curtain clacking softly.  “Ah, there you are, Prime.   Have you had a chance to clean up yet?”   He inquired as he rubbed the soft towel along his collar fairing.

            “Not yet—let me get a quick shower in the washracks, be back in a few moments,” Hot Rod said, swiftly jogging past his powerful lover.

            Galvatron dropped the towel onto a stand as he walked over towards the luxurious berth.   He climbed in and dropped the curtain back into place, swiping a couple fingers gently over the lighting bar, to lower the glow to something soft and slight.  The mood in the room was quiet and serene—Galvatron could feel mere ripples of his small lover’s EM field from the bathing room.   After today’s battles—this would be a relaxing interlude until heavier things must be dealt with and discussed.

            The so-very-familiar EM field came closer, until the curtain was pulled away for a moment and a smaller frame crawled into the berth.   Hot Rod dropped the curtain and crawled up onto Galvatron’s chest, laying his frame out over atop his larger lover’s.   He leaned forwards and brushed his lips over Galvatron’s, swiping his glossa out for the invitation of a deeper kiss.

            The Emperor of the Decepticons obliged, sliding his servos down to his little lover’s aft as their wet kissing went on for several long moments.

            “Let us not think about what happened today—let us only think of one another right now,” Galvatron murmured, lips trailing along Hot Rod’s chin and nipping lightly.

            “I hear that,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, softly.   He pushed himself up and gazed down into his lover’s crimson glass-covered optics.   “My lord……….if I must one day go and we cannot do this as often as we do now—will you still long for me when I’m not in your arms?”  Hot Rod murmured very softly.

            “I will cherish the moments when we are able to be together.   _You shall always be my one and only Prime_ ,” Galvatron said, his deep voice soft and the smile on his lips was honest and true.  “Hip panels, my Prime—let us enjoy a little bit of each other’s systems.”

            Hot Rod smiled and opened up his hip panels, Galvatron pulled out his data-interfacing cables from his own hips and plugged into his little lover’s systems.   The two of them both shuttered their optics and enjoyed the pleasure of each other’s familiar systems.   The way their program ghosts chased one another through data and memories and surrendered to the sensuality and familiarity of each other.   When they had finished with such simple pleasure with each other, Galvatron reached down to pull his cables out and reached up a servo to caress Hot Rod’s faceplate.   Hot Rod leaned into his lover’s touch, his optics still dim and shuttered.

            Galvatron smiled as he watched his little lover’s frame sway with pleasure.   Even if one day their paths must branch away from one another— ** _no other mech would ever compare to this flame-colored mech_**.   Their Sparks belonged to one another and their fates were twined together, forever.   But for now—there was this moment.   There was a beautiful young mech hot and eager awaiting a long night of pleasure and passion right on top of him………

            “Open for me,” Galvatron said, his deep voice a sensual purr, as he pulled Hot Rod’s frame to him and rolled them over so that the flame-colored mech was now beneath him.

            “Yes, my Emperor………” Hot Rod panted, back arching with pleasure.   His array panels slid open and he knew he was already wet, because he longed for his lover’s spike so much.

            “You are indeed the most beautiful of our species that I have ever encountered and I am pleased to have such a perfect treasure within my grasp,” the purple-and-grey mech chuckled warmly.   “Sensual and vibrant—you are my brilliant flame and I always wish you to burn brightly for me!”  He murmured, leaning down and skimming his lips over Hot Rod’s neck cabling.   He began to nip and nibble, teasing the cabling with his fangs.

            Hot Rod began to squirm, mewling softly.  

            “Patience, my Prime,” Galvatron chuckled, fondly.

            The foreplay continued on for awhile longer, Hot Rod reached a small overload which only flared up his desire even more.   His optics glowed intensely as he gazed up into Galvatron’s faceplate, begging for more, begging for his lover’s spike.

            “ ** _Nnngh_** ………” the flame-colored mech moaned as he felt the thick spike of his lover push deep into his valve.   “ _Galva—Galvatron, please……..faster, harder!_ ”  Hot Rod whimpered, reaching up his servos and grabbing his lover’s upper arms.

            “Always so impatient, my Prime!   You should learn to appreciate the slow rhythm of a really good fragging!”  Galvatron chortled softly.   But he pulled back and increased his pace of thrusting until Hot Rod overloaded twice more beneath him—the latter of the two overloads pulling one from the powerful Decepticon Leader.

            They parted and laid beside one another, their cooling fans roaring and their systems slowly coming down off the interface-high.

            “ _Mmmmm_.   That always feels so good.   But you know I’m not done yet,” Hot Rod laughed, climbing up on top of Galvatron’s bulkier frame.

            “ _Of course_ ,” the purple-and-grey mech chuckled.   “So, I expect a lot more fun and pleasure from you for the rest of the night.”

            Hot Rod laughed and slipped his body down a little until his valve slid over Galvatron’s again-pressurized spike.   He grinned down at his powerful lover as he began to ride the Decepticon Leader, working to bring them to yet one more plateau of pleasure on this long night of drowning within one another’s frames and the erotic sensuality that came with the activities.

            _They were together tonight—and tonight, that was all that mattered._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I saw "Godzilla: King of the Monsters" recently--I kind of imagine Rawjaw's form to be like the Big G's. :)


	9. The Bonds We Forge Shall Always Keep Us Together—Even When We Are Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come--Daniel Witwicky's wedding is finally here...............and, practically literally, everything rushes towards a surprising ending!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck, the longest chapter of anything in a long time and I even tried so very hard to get to that 100,000 word mark for this story in the final chapter.............and I still fell about 500 words short! XD
> 
> Welcome to the grand finale of "Burn Brightly" with an epic ending that's sure to surprise you (or not, if you've been reading the whole thing up to this point! XD)!!! Until all are one!!!

_ Chapter Nine:  The Bonds We Forge Shall Always Keep Us Together—Even When We Are Apart _

 

 

            Hot Rod woke up from a good night’s recharge and felt for the EM fields of his children in the room—to see if they were awake or asleep or whatever.   It had been just about a week since the attack on Chaar and things had _finally_ settled back down.   The Constructicons and their apprentices, the Autobot construction team worked very hard on fixing the damage done on the entertainment district and everyone on the planet was very much looking forward to the “ _soft_ ” re-opening of the area.   A couple shuttles would be coming from Cybertron and Earth this day—with Autobots and Decepticons—who would check out the new entertainment area and just enjoy being mechs and femmes of the same species for once.

            Novablaze’s EM field showed he was awake—and as soon as Hot Rod got up and walked over, he saw the mechling working on his glyphs with his datapad.

            “ _’Morning, cari_ ,” Novablaze said with a soft chuckle as his optics briefly glanced away from his datapad and up into his carrier’s faceplate.   He smiled up at Hot Rod very warmly.

            “Good morning,” Hot Rod responded with a grin.   “How go the writing lessons and all?”

            “I’m getting better, I think.   Cari—when will someone teach me _history_?   Slipstream and Danny said that there was a lot I didn’t know about, with the Decepticons and Autobots and everything,” he asked, holding the flame-colored mech’s gaze.

            “I’d like to find someone completely neutral about it, to be honest—to bring up the war in any way means…….you’ll get a lot of opinions one way or another,” Hot Rod murmured, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with a slight bit of anxiousness.   “The thing you’ll need to remember, we can give you written documents of our history once you feel confident in reading them—but they were either written by Autobots or by Decepticons and they would have a specific slant towards one side or the other.   I really don’t want you to be swayed by the opinions of one side over the other.   The Autobots were _not_ always as pure and pristine as you might hear them say…………….and the Decepticons were **_not_** all _‘kill, destroy, eradicate’_ like you might hear some say.”    Hot Rod incycled a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest.   “ _And_ ………….I’d like someone who is _not your sire_ to actually explain your sire to you.   Cyclonus and I would also both be obviously bad choices because of our Spark-bond with him.   I might be able to logically talk about Galvatron, but I’m also really too bonded with him to be emotionally honest about him.    It should really be someone _older_ than me, who knows about Megatron.  _They_ can explain everything you need to know—neither I nor Cyclonus really know Megatron all that well.”

            “Who’s _Megatron_?”   Novablaze asked, putting down his datapad and giving Hot Rod all of his attention.

            “That’s a _very good question_.   He was the former Decepticon Leader—and the frame that Unicron used to rebuild into Galvatron,” Hot Rod said, very simply.   “Everything else I know of Megatron has more to do with what others tell me—I have only interacted with Megatron himself one or two times and I _did not_ like him at all.”

            “It sounds pretty complicated, cari,” the youngling chuckled softly

            “Oh, it _definitely_ is!”   The flame-colored mech laughed, softly, reaching down to rub his youngling’s helm gently.   “Nova………… _ummmm_ ………….do you remember back when I was Autobot Leader?   I mean, you were just about the same age that Storm is now when that time ended……….”

            “I remember a little bit.   I remember you always being so busy and I was watched over a lot by the Autobots in Metroplex and sometimes on Cybertron.   I think sometimes not on either planet, though—like when I was really, _really_ little, didn’t I go to conferences with you and someone would watch over me when you were in meetings during the day?”   He asked, looking up at Hot Rod curiously as the flame-colored mech nodded down at him.

            “Were you ever mad at me………..or hated me for that………?”  The flame-colored mech asked, very quietly.

            “I think I was mostly _sad_ when you couldn’t be with me.  I don’t remember being mad at all—and I’d _never_ hate you, cari!”   Novablaze said, desperately.   “Cari………..is something wrong?”   He asked, seeing a strange expression on Hot Rod’s face and feeling something very weird in his carrier’s EM field.

            “What if I had to go and do all of that stuff again?”  Hot Rod asked, his voice very quiet and soft.

            Novablaze looked up at him, trying to figure out just what it was that he should say.  It was clear that thinking about this bothered his carrier very deeply.    He didn’t think he understood the whole thing, but he thought he might possibly understand a part of it.

            “You’d have to leave Chaar and travel?”   The youngling asked.   “What about Stormy, then?   She’d kinda have to go with you, wouldn’t she?   She’s still _too little_ ……..”

            “ _Yeah_.   Can you picture me leaving her with your sire all the time?”   Hot Rod chuckled nervously.

            “That would be _really, really bad_ , cari!”   Novablaze also chuckled, knowing how his sire loved taunting the femmeling.   “What………what about _me_?”   He asked, as he realized his carrier leaving also applied to him.

            “ _You’re_ a completely different story.   You’re a lot more mature………if you were a human child, I’d _never_ consider it until you were an older teenager.   But you’re a _Transformer_ and you’re very smart and you’re very level-headed,” Hot Rod answered, very seriously.   “I’d let you _choose_.   Whether you wanted to stay here and continue your training with Galvatron and Cyclonus or whether you’d want to come with me.   I think you’re actually mature enough to know how to ask others for help or for company when you need it.”

            Novablaze incycled a deep breath—his carrier thought _so highly_ of him!   He felt a deep warmth inside all of his internal systems.   Then he looked over at Stormbreaker’s high-walled bed—she was still asleep, they could _both_ feel that without even needing to look inside the crib.   **_He_** would be allowed to choose, but………… _Stormbreaker would have to go_ , she’d have no choice beyond:  “ _Do you want sire or do you want carrier_?”.   She’d be devastated at having to leave Chaar and Galvatron, but she’d be just as devastated if Hot Rod left all of them instead.   Now he felt he understood what his carrier’s jumbled feelings were really all about this morning.   No matter which decision was made, Stormbreaker would be _so unhappy_ ……………and Hot Rod would likely be very unhappy, too, to have to make the decision for her.

            “Will you _really_ have to go, cari?   Is it going to be soon?”   Novablaze asked, looking up at the flame-colored mech worriedly

            “Every day I keep thinking it’ll be sooner than I expect it to—and _that_ is very complicated to explain, I don’t think you’re ready for it at all, definitely not without knowing history,” Hot Rod answered, reaching down to rub his helm again.   “So, just think about what I’ve said—and don’t let it upset you, just think about what you feel is best for you, alright?   And then when that time comes, I think you’ll be ready to give me an answer.”

            “Okay, cari………..I will,” Novablaze responded, gently letting his field ripple out with love towards Hot Rod.   The field emotion was returned with so much warmth that Novablaze knew when that time came, too, _he’d_ be really sad to have to make such a decision in either direction.

            Then Hot Rod turned and walked over to Stormbreaker’s crib.   He reached down and gently picked her up.   She stirred awake and felt Hot Rod’s warmth and his EM field and purred happily, snuggling against his chest, right before dozing off once again.   The flame-colored mech just walked around the room, humming a little song and let himself relax, so that he could get ready for his day—without worrying about the strange recharge dream he had last night, which was what made him so deeply thoughtful this morning.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Starscream groaned and gave a very high pitched scream, something quite worthy of his moniker.

            “Honestly Starscream, you _endure pain_ much better than actually getting the injuries fixed,” Raj-ur-Malekk chuckled softly.   “Hold still, I still have to seal up the new chestplating _properly_.”

            The mech who was the commander of the Destron Army simply groaned again as the blowtorch heated up the metal of the new chestplating and then he broke the edges off the medical berth from grabbing it too hard.   Once you had a frame, getting _major fixes_ like **_this_** was way too frustrating and extremely painful.   It was also extremely stressful on a frame’s personal healing nanites, which lived in the miniscule space between frame armour and derma………it would take _months_ after this part was complete before his nanites could be trusted to do any future healing on his frame at all!

            “How could I fragging………….. ** _nnnngh!!!_**............ _fail again_?!”   Starscream snarled, fueling all of his pain into his rage.

            “Being angry when I’m trying to replace and repair your chest-block is _not_ going to help you endure the pain, nor make me go any faster on fixing it,” the Quintesson biologist responded, with great amusement in their dual-layered voice.

            “Is this just my fate?”   Starscream murmured, settling down to let his partner do the job more easily and get it finished.

            “I told you— _fate is merely a statistic_ ,” Raj-ur-Malekk responded.   “At some point, the odds **_will_** turn in our favor, you just have to keep surviving until the next time.   I am rather annoyed you tried to dispose of Leozak—he _proved_ he was firmly loyal by taking Galvatron’s blast full-on like that for you.   I don’t know why you feel compassion is equivalent to disloyalty.   And the fact that Rawjaw went with him is a great curiosity to me.”

            “ _Tch_ ,” Starscream grunted, turning his faceplate away from the Quintesson.   “But isn’t _that_ what it was which did it in for all of you Quintessons?”   He muttered.

            Raj-ur-Malekk put the blowtorch aside and rubbed a smoothing tool over the heated metal.   “ _That_ was passion.   Some of our slave product came back from other worlds and spread senseless ideas about individuality and so forth—it ignited **_passion_** in our slave product, _not compassion_ ,” he said, his dual-layered tone even and emotionless.   “Tell me, Starscream—would you prefer _originality_ or would you prefer an automaton who obeyed your orders without anything to distract it at all?   I, personally and honestly, prefer the originality that your species has developed—it shows true proof of evolutionary development, which we thought only belonged to organic or semi-organic species,” he added, setting the smoothing tool aside and hovered back to let the area cool.

            “Starscream, I have the lab results back on that sample the recon team gave us from Quar’tal,” a voice said from the doorway of the lab, after a servo lightly rapped on the doorframe.

            “ _Ah_ , Wind Sheer—finally some kind of good news, I hope!”  The Destron commander chuckled, slowly sitting up on the examination slab and swinging his legs over the side of it.  He was happy to be able to ignore the question his partner had put to him.

            The magenta-and-grey aerial mech just waved his datapad and chuckled, the facial shield prevented a grin from being shown.   Wind Sheer was a Decepticon that had come from the frontier, a scientist with rather extensive medical training—so, he was currently the _Chief Medical Officer_ for the Destron Army.   Though Starscream had also allowed him to dabble in his scientific curiosities—being a scientist himself, as well, he felt it was just fine.

            “The mineral sample that the recon team came back with is high in _cybertronium_ —or a mineral that is close enough to it to have been found on a **_foreign planet_** ,” Wind Sheer said, glancing down at the report on his datapad.   “We’ve also found traces of elements that, when properly distilled, can produce some very high-grade Energon— _Premium Grade_ , even!”

            “So, we could establish a base on this Quar’tal—stock up on supplies and such,” Starscream said, thoughtfully.   He glanced over at Raj-ur-Malekk.   “ _What_?”

            “That’s very _‘classic Decepticon’_ of you, Starscream,” the Quintesson biologist sighed, raising his tentacles in an equivalent of a shrug.

            Starscream looked very annoyed at that statement.

            “He’s right, you know,” the Destron CMO responded, before Starscream could go any further into a tantrum.   “ _That’s what we did in the past, we plundered and left_.   Tell me about Galvatron’s success on Chaar in these recent years?   He stopped doing all these destructive things that Megatron had done and he dug himself into _one area_.   I’m saying Quar’tal will make more than a base—it could be the _start of your empire_.”

            Starscream looked back-and-forth between Raj-ur-Malekk and Wind Sheer.   In his Spark, he knew they were actually right—Starscream was still adhering far too much to Decepticon ways of thought and deed.   In fact, he was trying to “ _out-Decepticon_ ” Galvatron—and **_that_** really wasn’t what he really wanted to do.   He wanted Cybertron……………

            “Ideally, yes, the idea is to conquer Cybertron,” Wind Sheer said, interrupting the Destron commander’s thoughts.   “However, what is an empire without its outlying dominions and base-posts?   Eventually, once we get around to getting Cybertron conquered— _that_ can be the true center of the Destron Empire, of course.   However, you can start building the skeleton of the Destron Empire out here on the frontier—a _far-reaching_ Destron Empire.”

            “Tell me, then—what are the natives like on Quar’tal?”  The blue-red-grey mech asked, curiously, looking at them both.

            “From the intial data, they are a small and primitive biological species—they are at the _hunter-gatherer_ stage of their evolution and easily swayed by their religious beliefs,” Raj-ur-Malekk responded.   “This is something that can be used to our benefit—though I should like to caution…………. _do not abuse your slaves_.   Abused slaves will always cause unrest and uprising,” he added, glaring at Starscream.   “If you take advantage of their religious beliefs, summon small groups to become slaves of the gods and once you show mercy and leniency to them—you may earn many more _willing slaves_.”

            “In all honesty—it’s best if our Destrons mine and refine the things there, _not fleshlings_ ,” Wind Sheer added with a soft chuckle.   “Use the slaves to buff and polish your armour—give them small gifts for pleasing their gods in such _frivolous and tedious_ ways.   This is honestly what the religiously devout expect from their gods—to do nothing but trival things for them.”

            “And then, what _small gifts_ shall we give them?”   Starscream inquired, wanting to fold his arms across his chest, but it hurt way too much to touch his new chestplating yet.

            “Things we don’t need from the planet, but will be brought up with the mining of the cybertronium and processing of Energon………the _shiny metals_ like gold and silver, as well as gemstones.   None of us have use for anything more than perhaps diamonds and those types of higher quality stones like that for lasers and the like,” the magenta-and-grey mech laughed, making a dismissive motion with a servo.   “But primitive species seem to like and place value to such objects.   When favored slaves show off the gifts from their gods, it will attract the attention of others to become slaves quite willingly.”

            Starscream reached up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.   It was an idea that involved a bit of work, yet really did have a lot of merit!   The other Destrons would have to be careful if they laid down rules like that, but then………….Decepticons had always loved being pampered as much as they enjoyed battle.   So, having little fleshlings there to hand them fuel containers and to polish their armour at any whim may seem small and trivial, but he felt the Destrons would probably adapt to this easily.

            “All right, then—let’s move Scorponok to Quar’tal,” Starscream ordered, waving a hand at Wind Sheer.   “We’ll settle him in his base mode—once dug in, he will seem much like a temple to the primitives.   Find an area with a lower or less dense population to start out with and we’ll use the camouflage protocols to make him look much older and long-settled into the area.”

            “As soon as we land, we’ll do a thorough scanning of the area before going out to find any natives, because if we are going to deceive the primitive population of a planet—we need to have the proper details for our story and background as gods,” Raj-ur-Malekk added.   “Now, don’t _you_ have something else to prepare for in the next couple of weeks?”   The Quintesson said, looking at Starscream.

            “Indeed,” the Destron commander chuckled softly.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The “ _soft re-opening_ ” day for the entertainment district went far better than the official opening day had been.   Everyone who came, the Autobots and the Decepticons that were on the shuttles, seemed to have a really good time and actually got to know each other.   Hot Rod had _finally_ gotten Autobots to come to the embassy—so, his staff truly got to show their skills at their jobs for a _real encounter_ with Autobots at the _Autobot Embassy_.

            As Hot Rod came down the stairs from his office on the second floor, he was carrying Stormbreaker in his arms and he glanced down into the lobby area of his precious embassy—his Spark warmed up so much to see a group of about a dozen Autobots sitting in public the lounge area or loitering about the main lobby of the embassy.   The three Mini-Cons were wandering about the various groups of Autobots, incredibly curious about all of them—they hung about on arms or legs and warbled in their strange language at the Autobots, their tones were cheerful and friendly.   All of these things were the kinds of things were what he’d _always_ wanted for the embassy.

            “Look, Storm………we have a lot of new guests,” Hot Rod chuckled, standing on the stairs about halfway down to the main floor, and he pointed to the lobby area.   She made a soft little sound of surprise, around the hand she had stuck in her mouth.   “Let’s go meet our guests,” he said, warmly, rippling his EM field full of love around her and walked down the remainder of the stairs.

            “ ** _Awwwww_** _……..sothisisthelittlefemme!Sheis **so** super-adorable!_”   Blurr chuckled, walking over to Hot Rod and smiling at Stormbreaker.

            “Stormbreaker, this is Blurr,” Hot Rod introduced.   Then he grinned over at his Autobot friend.   “Did you get to race or just watch today?”  He asked as the femmeling waved with her free servo and left the other firmly planted in her mouth.

            “ _Iracedin **one** ,atleast.Boy,aretheStunticons **pissed** atme!_”  The blue-colored mech laughed.

            All of the sudden, Stormbreaker dropped her servo from her mouth and craned her head towards the door.   “ _Sire_!!!”   She said excitedly as Hot Rod turned to face the door, just as Galvatron walked in.

            The sudden silence that fell over the area made Hot Rod worry about Autobots wanting to come back after today, even as he watched Galvatron come straight towards him unrelentingly.   Stormbreaker made grabby hands at Galvatron, mewling loudly at him.   The Decepticon Leader reached over and grabbed her by the back of the neck, _as he always did_ , and placed her in the crook of his arm………….but the soft gasps from the lobby loiterers had Galvatron look around with bewilderment.

            “It’s okay, they just don’t realize what a great sire you are—they’re freaking out over you just even being here,” Hot Rod said, soothingly, reaching up to pat his lover’s shoulder.   “I mean, you’re Galvatron and you’re a total terror to your enemies, right?”  He chuckled, warmly, grinning up at his powerful lover.

            There was no denying that Stormbreaker wasn’t hurt in any way from the unusual way of being picked up, because she burrowed against Galvatron’s chest and purred loudly with her happiness.   That particular action alone seemed to ease the odd discomfort in the Autobots, who slowly went back to their own chatting and conversations.

            “Autobots shall _always_ be a great puzzle to me,” Galvatron mutters.   “No offense, Autobot,” he said to Blurr with a polite nod of his head.

            “ _Heh,nonetaken!_ ”   Blurr laughed.   “ _Seeya,Roddy!_ ”   He added before walking off to join in some chats with other Autobots.   And he—like several other mechs in the lobby area—happened to be enjoying flirting with Slipstream and Windblade really quite shamelessly.

            “My little Prime, let us adjourn to the commissary and fuel while we talk,” Galvatron said, nodding down at the flame-colored mech beside him.

            The two of them went to the cafeteria of the embassy and Hot Rod prepared a fuel cup in the prep-room for Stormbreaker before getting out two cans of high-grade Energon for himself and Galvatron.   He looked out to the seating area from the prep-room and saw Galvatron had placed Stormbreaker on the table before him and she had a hold of one his fingers—he was playfully trying to pull it from her little grip.   The powerful Emperor of the Decepticons was smiling fondly as he played the silly little game with his femmeling.

            Hot Rod’s Spark seemed to slow and a wave of painful ache washed over him.   The flame-colored mech could feel warm liquid welling at the microseams of his optics.   All of the sudden both of their heads swiveled and two pairs of optics stared at him, in complete surprise.   His EM field must’ve been leaking out, too………..

            “My Prime—what is wrong?   What troubles you?”   Galvatron asked, just about to get up and walk over to him, but Hot Rod waved at him to just stay there.

            “It’s nothing.   I mean…….. _I’m_ …………I’m just going to miss the _little things_ like this,” he murmured.   It was alright if he spoke vaguely about such matters, because Galvatron would understand since they’d talked about it so much already and Stormbreaker wouldn’t understand yet.   “Galvatron……….. _I need your strength_.   Please, don’t let me fail in the future that we both know is coming!”   Hot Rod said, desperately, walking back over to the seating area where they were, setting the two cans down and handing the cute pink fuel-cup to Stormbreaker.

            “You are my strong, brave…………. _and incredibly sexy_ …………… ** _Prime_** ,” Galvatron said firmly, opening his can of Energon and taking a sip.   Stormbreaker tried to emulate him while drinking from her fuel-cup.   “I know, deep within your Spark, you have _finally_ become strong enough for this.   You and I have worked hard on it for many years now.”

            “Yeah, _I know_.   But now I’ll need to be incredibly strong for **_her_** ,” Hot Rod said, taking a long drink from his can and gazing at Stormbreaker.

            “Yes, I can see your point,” Galvatron murmured, drinking some more and Stormbreaker emulating him again—she was literally only drinking when her sire drank.  “ _Oh_.  This reminds me—I have been preparing a _gift_ for you, though it may or may not be completed by the time our parting comes,” the Leader of the Decepticons added with a grin over at his little lover.  He was completely oblivious to Stormbreaker emulating him.

            “ ** _You_** _?   Making me something?_ ”   Hot Rod laughed, but he very much treasured that idea even if he knew Galvatron surely wasn’t making something with his own two servos as a gift!

            “Well, I have conveyed the idea and basic design to those more qualified to do so, so that they may create it _for me_ ,” Galvatron chuckled in response.   “It will be my………… _hmmmmm_ ………what is it the humans may call it?   An _‘anniversary gift’_?”  The Decepticon Leader said, his tone that of musing.   “Your human friend tells me that while it is not quite a milestone year for such a thing—it is very close to a decade now, close enough that I might pursue the idea of such a gift.   But it is specifically for you when we must go off on different paths.”

            Hot Rod was in awe………..he wondered what it was?   It was _clearly_ a physical object of some sort—which needed to be constructed, but not fast?   He placed a servo to his chest and smiled as warmth filled him.   It would make him ache so much to leave Chaar and Galvatron and everything, but……..

            “No matter what happens, I am _still_ the Autobot Ambassador to Chaar—that’s what the ceasefire accords all state.    That’s what _we_ agreed on,” Hot Rod said, smiling at his powerful older lover.   “And you only need to ask for me— _for a fight or a frag_ —but I may be busier than I was before.  For that, I apologize that I may not be able to come to you at all the whims of yours,” he added.

            “This is understandable,” Galvatron responded, drinking the rest of his can of Energon and bringing the can down onto the table with a metallic little “ _plunk_ ”.

            Stormbreaker tried swallowing the rest of her Energon—most of it leaking out the sides of her mouth—then set the fuel cup down hard enough to make a sound, just like her sire.   That was when Galvatron _finally_ noticed what she’d been doing……….

            “How long has she been copying me, Prime?”   He chuckled, reaching down and patting her helm, as the flame-colored mech reached over to rub the trickled fuel from the sides of her mouth and chin with a cloth.

            “The whole entire time,” Hot Rod chuckled softly.   “Gosh, I remember when Daniel was like this as an itty-bitty-tyke.   He had the stage where he copied _everything_ Spike did—kids like to copy their parents.   It’s kinda how they learn some things too………….though maybe not always good things.”   He smiled fondly at Stormbreaker as she made grabby-hands at Galvatron, desiring her sire’s attention.   “I really do want _another one_ someday……….after we’ve settled into our new lives and after Storm’s grown up a little.   It’s one that might grow up like Nova though—not seeing much of you for a part of their life—if we have to part ways and do our own things.”

            “One who was born into that way of life will not have the issues that our Stormbreaker may have with this parting,” Galvatron murmured, placing her in his arms and letting her snuggle against his chestplate, purring happily.   “But it is _only distance_ —and that is something that we may traverse at will.   We will still see each other _often enough—_ do you honestly think I will be satisfied with **_merely Cyclonus_** from now on?”   He chuckled, reaching over with his free servo and swiped gentle fingers along Hot Rod’s chin and jawline.

            “Well, _you_ have the luxury of grabbing anyone you want to frag,” Hot Rod sighed, a small pout in the tone of his voice.

            “You could certainly do so, as well………… ** _I_** will not stop you from playing with others,” Galvatron chuckled.

            “You know I just can’t do that as easily as you, Galvatron—it’s not in my personality to sleep around with others,” the flame-colored mech responded softly.

            “Well, perhaps one day you shall lighten up on that problem,” the Decepticon Leader said with a grin.   “I do not mind if you try and find new techniques to bring back to our berthroom on occasion.”

            “ _Pfft, **you**_ **,** ” Hot Rod laughed, grinning back at his lover.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Leozak set down the datapad and leaned back into the berth.   Despite the fact that he knew there was a crowd down on the first floor, in the lobby area of the embassy, he was amazed at the soundproofing on the personal rooms here on the third floor.   He couldn’t hear anything whatsoever, except for Rawjaw’s systems in recharge, where the Sharkticon was sleeping on the floor beside the berth.  

            After his surgery and after they moved him here for comfort and safety, he’d had a lot of time to reflect on everything.   What surprised him most was Rawjaw defending him and…………choosing to leave the Destron Army and his original master, just for Leozak.   The teal-and-white mech was very puzzled by this fact—that Rawjaw had become attached to him in the short time since Raj-ur-Malekk had given the Sharkticon over to be Leozak’s assistant of a sort.   He wanted to think of the Sharkticon as his friend, but he knew it wasn’t in the capabilities of the customized bodyguard of the Quintesson biologist.   Rawjaw simply didn’t see that quality—it was master and assistant ( _servant_ ) to him, but Leozak didn’t feel he was much of a “ _master_ ” so he simply couldn’t think of the Sharkticon as a “ _servant_ ”.  

            However the Sharkticon truly appreciated being fed on a regular basis.

            Leozak hadn’t realized that Rawjaw was only fed on occasion and _not daily_.   He just assumed the Sharkticon fueled on a daily basis like any Transformer and let Rawjaw share fuel time with him everyday.   So, Leozak came to the conclusion that the Sharkticon attached to whomever probably gave him Energon the most often.   Here at the Autobot Embassy, _everyone_ fueled regularly, so the Sharkticon went down to the cafeteria to get fuel for them both every single day and brought it back to the room.

            Leozak hoped he could get up and move around soon.   But the Decepticon Chief Medical Officer— _Hook_ —he said that Leozak should stay in the berth and rest for another week.   He sometimes got up and took a few steps over to the window, but he wasn’t going to push it when his chest started feeling like it was burning with pain.   In the meantime, Hot Rod had given him _any_ datapad at his request—for historical records or even fictional works.

            The former Destron chose a historical record datapad to start with—so Hot Rod compiled both Decepticon and Autobot historical records, that way Leozak could see what it was like for _both sides_ during the war.

            All of the sudden, Rawjaw was wide awake and started growling at the door, even before a polite knock sounded on it.

            “It’s all right, Rawjaw, you know that no one’s going to hurt us here,” Leozak said kindly, as the Sharkticon wandered over to his berth and frowned up at him.   “It’s almost time for daily fuel…….do you want to go down to the cafeteria and get some for us?”   He asked.

            The knock sounded again, just as the Sharkticon nodded and went to the door to press the button for it to open.   Rawjaw looked down at the small purple-and-yellow mech in surprise, not expecting one of the embassy’s younglings to appear at Leozak’s hab suite.   The Sharkticon grunted and made a waving gesture at the room as he walked past to go downstairs to the cafeteria.

            “ _’Bye, Rawjaw!   See you later!_ ”   Novablaze said cheerfully as he walked into the room and over to Leozak’s berth.   “Hi, Leozak……….how’re you doing?”   The youngling asked with a big grin on his faceplate.

            “I’m fine, Novablaze.   How come _you’re_ up here checking on me?”   He asked, curiously.   Since the door was open he could hear the chatter of voices from the first floor’s lobby area.

            “Heh, it’s a bit overwhelming down there today.   And Cyclonus is really too busy for lessons today, so’s sire and cari,” the youngling chuckled, draping his arms over the foot of the bed and leaned forward on the padded berth.   It was raised pretty high, so Novablaze could just barely reach the top of it.   “What’cha reading?”   He asked, nodding at the datapad next to the teal-and-white mech on the berth.

            “Historical documents from the Autobots and the Decepticons,” Leozak answered.

            “ _Awwww_ ……..cari says he won’t let me read ‘em till I’m **_older_**!”  Novablaze pouted, frowning softly.

            “Well, I think he just doesn’t want your thoughts to be influenced one way or another.   A lot of these things are really quite biased.   I…….. _learned something_ about Starscream that he never even mentioned before—he was a scientist,” Leozak said with a deep sigh.   “He wasn’t originally a Decepticon, even.”

            “His EM field just felt very dark— _it didn’t_ …….I mean, it _wasn’t_ like sire’s.   Sire’s field is way powerful, but it’s still just as bright and understandable as cari’s.  Starscream’s field felt very…….. _just dark_ , you know?”   Novablaze murmured, tilting his head side-to-side as he tried to explain his feelings to the former Destron.

            “ _Mmmm_.   I think I know that now,” the teal-and-white mech sighed softly.   “I think the hardest part was that he really believed I _was_ a traitor.   I……….. _wasn’t._   But………….he’ll never let me come back, I know that for sure.”

            “You can stay _here_.   Cari always wants more people on the staff here at the embassy!”  Novablaze said, cheerfully, grinning at the teal-and-white mech happily.   “I _like_ you, Leozak!   You’re super-nice and Rawjaw is really super-cool!”  He giggled.

            Rawjaw had just come back with two cans of high-grade Energon.   He made a guttural, growling sound.   He looked at Novablaze with some puzzlement, because he had no idea what “ _super-cool_ ” meant.

            “It means you’re………….. _strong and fierce_ ,” Novablaze explained, trying to use words that he knew might have equivalents in Old High Cybertronian.   He knew the Sharkticon understood Modern Cybertronian, but some of those words that the youngling used were Earth English and _not_ Cybertronian.

            Rawjaw grunted and nodded, handing a can to Leozak.   He watched the teal-and-white mech open his can and drink some first before he opened his can to drink it.   Then his head whipped to the doorway as another person approached, though the door was open this time………the Sharkticon growled sharply.    It reminded Novablaze of an Earth canine—at how they would protect their homes by growling and barking at strangers.

            “ _Oh, hey_ ……found you, Novablaze,” a blue-grey-maroon colored mech said as they stopped in the doorway.   “I _thought_ I felt your field up here.”

            “ _Hi, Quake!_    You know of our guests, right?   Leozak and Rawjaw,” the youngling said happily, slipping off the edge of the bed and turning to face the older mech with a grin.   “Quake came in from the frontier not too long ago.   He’s pretty cool, he’s a………… _what’cha’callit_?”   Novablaze asked, tilting his head curiously at the mech.

            “ _Terrain specialist_.   So, I’ve been working with Mixmaster and Scavenger on their geological surveys with the human,” Quake answered, only just stepping right inside the room and out of the way of the doorway.   “I’ve not met Doctor Jones personally yet, but just over the communications network and he’s an odd one.   He laughs a lot for a human and a scientist……….” the Decepticon said with a frown and shrug.

            “I’m afraid I don’t have any specialties and………….I lost my assist mech………..so, I’m probably pretty _boring_ ,” Leozak sighed softly.

            “ _Assist mech_?”   Quake asked, curiously.

            “The strike team and I were designed with an _extra portion_ on our chestplating armour that could detach.   It had a beast form and could be adapted into our weapons, if we chose—I used mine to enhance my sword,” Leozak answered, shaking his head softly.   “But it got damaged beyond repair when I took the hit in our form of Liokaiser—I’m sure Hook didn’t realize it was an extra piece of my armour, because it was probably slagged pretty bad.”

            “Maybe it’s good that you had it, though.   Because you might actually _be dead_ if you didn’t,” Quake said, looking at Leozak intensely.   The teal-and-white mech nodded and smiled wanly at the Decepticon.   “Now that you have a new chestplate and all, you can decide who it is that you want to be, if you want to be anything at all,” the mech responded, pointing at the Decepticon brand on his chest and then motioned at Novablaze, who had no brand on his armour at all.   “I’d say to grasp your new life with all your Spark.   Dwelling on the past is only painful for a lot of us and it’s much better if you choose to look towards the future.”

            Just then, all of the power went out in the embassy and they all heard the multitude of voices from the group downstairs in the lobby.   In Leozak’s room, all that could be seen were the glowing optics of the four in the room and Novablaze’s biolighting.   Before anyone could say anything, Galvatron’s voice boomed throughout the embassy building………

            “ ** _Whosoever is the one who did this—I hope that you are prepared to pay, for when I find you………!_** ”  The powerful Leader of the Decepticons roared from wherever he was in the building.

            Even as Galvatron voice echoed throughout the embassy, everyone else (except Novablaze, who hadn’t figured out how to do it yet, and Rawjaw—who likely didn’t have the ability for it) got a more patient glyph message from Hot Rod.

 

**|Hang tight, everyone.   We’re going to find out what’s going on.   Stay where you are until the power comes back on.|**

 

            “Hot Rod says to wait patiently,” Quake said, primarily for Novablaze and Rawjaw’s benefit.   “I want everyone to stay in _this room_ —I’m going to go stand outside and watch for anyone skulking about who shouldn’t be,” the Decepticon added.

            “Okay, Quake……… _be careful_ ,” Novablaze said, quietly.

            “ _I will_ ,” the maroon-grey-blue mech responded, his voice soft and had a somewhat pleased tone to it.

            Rawjaw climbed up to the berth and hunched protectively on the pede-end of the berth, staring determinedly in the direction of the doorway.   Novablaze walked around to the left side of berth and leaned on the edge of it, close enough to Leozak’s frame so that he could feel and hear the mech’s systems.   The youngling thought for a moment that it was odd that Leozak was younger than him, yet created as an “ _adult mech_ ”, but then everyone except him and Stormbreaker—and Dai Atlas and Windblade—had been “ _born_ ” as adults in the Transformers race.

            Meanwhile, down on the second floor, Star Saber was slowly walking around the offices, because he could sense a tightly held EM field on that particular floor—and currently no one was on the office floor ever since Hot Rod went downstairs with Stormbreaker.   Suddenly, he came upon a mini-bot who had just started sprinting for the stairs and grabbed them up by the back of the neck.

            “Wait………….. _Mainframe_?   What are **_you_** doing here on this floor?   _It’s off-limits to visitors_!”  The heroic old Autobot said sharply, holding the smaller mech up before him.

            “ _Oh, hey_ …………hi, Saber—I haven’t seen you in _ages_ ,” the small red-and-grey mech laughed jovially.

            “Did _you_ do this?   Seriously, why do you have to perform these elaborate, attention-getting pranks?”  Star Saber grunted, walking to the stairs and then carefully walking down them in the dark.   “I honestly thought you had finally evolved beyond such juvenile pranks—it’s been _two million years_ since I last saw you!”  He sighed and then headed directly for the EM fields he recognized as Hot Rod’s and Galvatron’s.   “I found out little _‘blackout demon’_ —it turns out it’s just another of his mischevious pranks.”

            “ ** _Then give him to me and I shall show him it is not proper to pull a prank on my world!_** ”  Galvatron growled, his optics glowing a burning crimson in the darkness.

            “Whoa, dial it back a bit, my Emperor—the embassy is _neutral ground_ ,” Hot Rod said, his blue optics not glowing as angrily as his lover’s.   Stormbreaker’s darker, violet-colored optics glowed dimmer than either of her parents’ when she turned to look at the mech being held like she and her brother often were by their sire, by the powerful Star Saber.   “Why’d you do it?   I’m _trying_ to get Autobots to enjoy coming here—I’m _not_ trying to freak them out or scare them off!”  The young Autobot responded.

            “He does it only for attention,” Star Saber grunted.

            “Hey now, I only wanted _one person’s_ attention—and I have it, now—plus, I wanted to show him that Brainstorm’s tech security isn’t as good as it should be.   I mean, I already broke his coding months ago—I could’ve actually have done this from Cybertron,” Mainframe said with a deep sigh.   “Here, you probably don’t want to talk in the dark and you can set me down, Saber—I’m not going anywhere.”

            “What do you mean?”  Hot Rod asked, a bit of surprise in his voice as he watched Star Saber set the mini-bot down and the lights suddenly came back on.

            Stormbreaker, in Hot Rod’s arms, looked around and made a little “ _ooooohhhh_ ” sound as the lights came on in the lobby area and every single Autobot was glaring at Mainframe from the seating area.

            “ _Look_.   I like Brainstorm, really, but he’s not always up-to-date on the tech stuff—not like me,” Mainframe said, placing a servo on his hip and motioning as he spoke, holding some sort of remote in his motioning-servo.   “If you want _real_ tech security on Chaar—you need to have **_me_** here.”

            Hot Rod tilted his head down at the mini-bot, curiously.   “ _Um_ , you didn’t have to be so dramatic—you could’ve told Magnus you wanted to answer my job bulletins for the embassy staff,” the flame-colored mech said, frowning softly.

            “You’ve already got your tech, why would you hire me?   Unless I could prove I’m _better_ than Brainstorm,” Mainframe chuckled, shrugging and waving the remote again, a finger hovering over a particular button.

            “Do **_not_** even think it, tiny Autobot—or you will become just as microscopic as the circuitry you play with,” Galvatron growled, starting to raise his nova cannon to aim it at Mainframe.

            “Okay, okay……… _no more theatrics_ ,” Mainframe sighed, holding out the remote and allowing Galvatron to take it from him—rather than anyone else in the room—just to prove he was being completely honest right now.

            “Look, I’ll find a place for _anyone_ who wants to work here—and I don’t need to have only one technical wizard on staff.   And there’s _no competition_ here, Brainstorm works hard and he’s honest and **_he volunteered_** to come here when _no other Autobot_ would,” Hot Rod said, seriously.   “Where have you been the last few years, when I’ve been asking for staff?   When I’ve been having a hard time getting Autobots to come here to my embassy and work?”   He added, frowning again down at Mainframe.   “You’ve been hiding on Cybertron, that’s where.   You’re talking big and using theatrics to get my attention when all you had to do was say to Ultra Magnus you wanted to come here to work.   You think you need to prove that I need to have you on my staff with a juvenile prank _like this_?  You could’ve scared my kids…………..you could’ve had Galvatron blasting every moving object in the embassy once he locked onto them…………..and you might’ve scared any Autobots from ever coming back here again, after I’ve worked myself sick so much to try and get Autobots to even come here in the first place!”

            “ _Exactly_ ,” Galvatron added, echoing the sentiments in his little lover’s voice, even though his field was still rippling with danger and warning to all around him.

            The Autobots in the lobby area watched this exchange with a lot of interest and some small bit of amusement.   Some knew Mainframe and his proclivity for pranks like this, so now that he’d finally been revealed it wasn’t as frightening as it had been in the dark when an unknown enemy might be nearby.   But also, many of them were witnessing for the first time, Galvatron’s true devotion to Hot Rod.   It may not be a form of love as they all understood it, but it was _very honest_ and _very real_ as Galvatron moved to protect the flame-colored mech, whether from words or deeds—using frame and field, to do so.

            Mainframe just stood there, the tech’s facial shield he wore prevented a viewable expression on his faceplate and he still kept his field tight.   So, no one really knew just what the smaller red-and-grey mech was thinking.   Just then, Star Saber gave a low growl and whacked the smaller mech sharply on the back of the neck.

            “ _The hell?!_    What was **_that_** for, Saber?”   Mainframe griped, spinning to face the taller mech.

            “You need to apologize, you ungrateful little mech,” Star Saber snapped back.   “Galvatron could very easily blast you into dust and he really, _very sincerely_ , wants to.   You’ve upset Hot Rod and everyone’s staring at you like you ruined a party.   Now, fragging apologize to them— _to everyone_!”   The old Autobot hero demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

            “ _Oh. **That**_ ,” Mainframe said with a sigh.   He shrugged his shoulders.   “I’m sorry that everyone’s so upset and riled up, but I don’t apologize for what I did.   _I never do_.   You’ve got holes in your systems here on Chaar that you need fixed, I’m not going to apologize for showing that to you.”

            All of the sudden, every single Autobot in the lounge area groaned and began complaining in loud voices, begging Mainframe to apologize for causing such a mess and an uproar like this.   Just then, someone kicked Mainframe in the backs of the legs, knocking him to the ground.   The smaller mech looked up to see a purple-and-yellow mech that was just about his size glaring down at him angrily.

            “ _If you scared Stormy, I’m gonna punch you all the way back to Cybertron!_ ”  Novablaze snapped, folding his arms over his chest and acting just like his sire.

            There was a light chuckle from behind the youngling and near Star Saber.   Then the culprit— _Quake_ —began to laugh out loud.

            “Seriously, _this_ is the guy who took out the lights?   _What an afthole_ ,” the Decepticon terrain specialist chortled, hands on his hips as he gazed down at Mainframe sprawled on the floor like that.

            “ _Yes_.   You should listen to what my Novablaze is telling you,” Galvatron responded, grinning down at the small Autobot.   “He cares very much for his sibling and carrier—and he is just as ferocious as I am.   Now, I _insist_ that you apologize to my Prime—or else you shall be banned from Chaar and I will request that Ultra Magnus incarcerate you for your devious tactics in messing with my Prime’s embassy.”

            “ _You can’t do that!   I’m an **Autobot**!_”   Mainframe protested loudly, slowly getting back up to his pedes.

            “You messed around in an _Autobot Embassy_ ,” Star Saber grunted.   “Therefore you messed with _Autobot stuff_.   Ultra Magnus would take the charge very seriously.”

            “I’m not going to apologize, because I’m right about your situation!”  Mainframe complained, pointing directly at Galvatron and Hot Rod.

            “Even if you’re right, you could have communicated it—instead of made a production out of it,” Hot Rod snapped back.   Now he was getting angry and he still had Stormbreaker in his arms—and she was getting all fidgety with _both her sire and carrier_ in a state of upset.   “Nova, would you come and take your sister—at this point it’s not good for her to be held by me or Galvatron,” he asked, looking at his youngling and smiling.

            “Okay, cari,” the purple-and-yellow youngling said, cheerfully.  He reached up and carefully took his little sister into his arms and adjusting his carrying hold carefully.   “Hi, Stormy,” he murmured, nuzzling his face against hers.

            She purred and giggled, then patted Novablaze’s cheeks with her tiny servos happily.   Novablaze walked them over to where the larger group of Autobots were in the seating area.   The Mini-Cons hovered about him anxiously, warbling up at Stormbreaker.   She purred and warbled back to them, in a good mood.

            “Okay, Mainframe—I’ll give you _a chance_ to work here at the embassy, but you really do have to apologize to Galvatron and the Autobots……… _and my children_ ……….. ** _right now_** ,” Hot Rod said, folding his arms across his chest and glaring down at the mini-bot.

            Mainframe gave a soft little grunt and placed a hand on his hip, with the other rubbing lightly at the back of his neck.   Suddenly, Star Saber slapped him in the back of his neck again to get the mini-bot a bit more motivated.   The grey-and-red mech grumbled something softly, glaring back at Star Saber, then he looked up at Hot Rod, holding a servo out pleasantly in greeting.

            “I’m sorry, _okay_?   I’ll _try_ to do better.   Mechs like me don’t have a lot of friends, so I’ll admit I’m not good at talking to living people, _just computers_ ,” Mainframe said, his voice light and with a tone that was a lot friendlier than his previous complaining one.    “I was assigned to the Maiko Unit, in the Gran System—chief technician aboard the _Silver Spire_.   I served with Saber once, before he went and formed his own crew—so that’s how I know him so well.   But my commanding officer was a mech named _Fullforce_ —he was a powerful guy, kinda weird though, Saber can tell you about him, they argued a lot.”

            Hot Rod took his servo and shook it politely.   Then he glanced at Galvatron.

            “I suppose it shall have to do,” the powerful Emperor of the Decepticons sighed.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Overall, Brainstorm didn’t take it personally when Mainframe decided to tear apart the systems and rebuild them—but the Autobot **_Lead Tech_** of the embassy told Mainframe to only do one section at a time and to finish it _completely_ before doing another.   Brainstorm was given the supervisory role of the suddenly-formed department and Hot Rod had _cautioned_ (and said he could get Galvatron to _threaten_ if he had to) Mainframe to obey Brainstorm’s orders—as the other mech had seniority there at the embassy.

            Mainframe had become more cheerful, now that he was “ _part of the crew_ ” at the embassy.   It seemed that what the small Autobot had truly wanted was simply to belong somewhere—and, to be honest, Hot Rod couldn’t fault the red-and-grey mini-bot for _that_.   As a result of Mainframe’s cheerfulness—he had actually made friends among the staff.   Novablaze had especially extended a servo of friendship, because the youngling _was just like that_ with everyone who came to the embassy.   So, over the next week, everything had finally settled down again—everyone was getting along and there were no more mishaps when the next week brought a _new group_ of Autobots and Decepticons (from Kesia on Cybertron) to visit the entertainment district for the day.

            Hot Rod had left Stormbreaker in Galvatron’s care (who was stalking the embassy on a regular basis for some strange reason), while he went to have a closed meeting with Carnivac, his administrative manager.

            “I’m surprised you asked for a _closed meeting_ , Hot Rod—that’s quite unusual for you,” the Decepticon responded, setting a can of Energon each on the table before them as they both sat down on the guest couch against the far wall of Carnivac’s office.

            “I wanted to talk to you about something _very important_ , Carnivac,” the flame-colored mech said with a smile as he took the can and opened it.   “You were the first one to come and work at my embassy and I trust you in all your administrative capabilities.   _So_ ………….there’s this **_thing_** and Galvatron and I have spoken a lot about it.   I might be leaving Chaar and I know the embassy will be in good servos with you.”

            “It’s like _that_?   You gonna be the Autobot Leader again?”   The Decepticon asked, curiously, sipping from his can of Energon.

            “ _Yeah_.   Maybe soon.  It’s……….. _complicated_ ,” Hot Rod sighed.

            “You Autobots _always_ make things more complicated than they need to be,” Carnivac chuckled, leaning back on the couch.   “Don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of the embassy.   If I hire new staff, do you want to okay them before I actually hire them?”

            “ _Nah_.  I trust your judgement—just remember to try and keep it as even as possible with Autobot and Decepticon staff here.   All you have to do is send me some i-mails with their information and stuff when you do,” Hot Rod laughed.   “I’m really glad I have you and Brainstorm so well settled in here—and everyone else who’s come in has settled in pretty well.   Even Mainframe, I suppose.”   The flame-colored mech gave a deep sigh and drank more of his Energon.   “I talked about this a little with Novablaze and I think _he_ wants to stay here.   I’m going to impress upon him that he needs to remain at the embassy if he stays, though………..because he’s not old enough to know what his sire does with his other berthmates in the palace.   _Not yet_.”

            “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him.   He’s really made friends fast with some of the newcomers to the embassy…….it has me really curious.   His rapport with Quake is really enviable,” Carnivac mused, gazing at the ceiling and tapping fingers against his can.   Then he saw the look of complete surprise on Hot Rod’s faceplate.   “You _seriously_ didn’t notice?   I mean, it’s really pretty obvious that they’ve become good friends already.   But Quake’s a nice guy and, _trust me_ , you don’t have to worry about Novablaze’s innocence any time soon.”

            “ _Aww, **jeeze**_ —I really came off like a worried parent, didn’t I?”  Hot Rod chuckled softly, shaking his head with embarrassment.   “Yeah, I really get good vibes from Quake—I’m not worried about him.   I guess I just didn’t realize Nova was already pretty attached to him,” the flame-colored mech added, shaking his head lightly.   “But why are _you_ curious?”   He asked, gazing over at the Decepticon with intensity.

            “I remember you mentioning his multi-function T-Cog a while back—and while you and Hook are thinking a third alt mode, it can actually mean _something else_ , too,” Carnivac responded, smiling at Hot Rod.   “It can mean a **_gestalt combination_** , too.   Remember, Deszaras and his crew came back with the utility gestalt of three members—so a gestalt _doesn’t_ need to be five or six members, either.”

            Hot Rod’s mouth opened in a little “ ** _o_** ” shape, surprise evident in his expression and his field.

            “They don’t all need to be created together to become a gestalt of any kind—they can have their frames adjusted—but I think it all depends on the Spark and the T-Cog of the individuals who become a unit,” the brown-and-purple mech said softly.   “I think Novablaze _feels something_ with Quake—and you’ve heard Quake talk about how _‘familiar’_ Novablaze feels to him.   It may be something like that.”

            “That just means one day they’ll _probably_ be lovers, too,” Hot Rod responded with a sigh and drank more of his Energon.

            “Would _that_ be so bad?”  Carnivac asked, chuckling softly.

            Hot Rod laughed.   “It’s just me being a worried parent again.   No, _really_ ……….Quake would make a _good partner_ for him,” the flame-colored mech chuckled warmly.   “ _Ummm_.   But like I said, I think Nova wants to stay here, but Storm’s going to have to come with me— _for better or for worse_ ,” he added, quietly.

            “Galvatron will miss his little princess, even if he won’t actually say it,” the Decepticon responded, a grin on his faceplate.

            “ _Yeah_.   He really did get pretty attached to her,” Hot Rod murmured softly, smiling fondly.   “I’m glad, too.  It shows that Galvatron’s really evolving towards what a great mech that I know he’s going to be one day.   I mean, I don’t want him to change who he fundamentally is—but I want him to be more _adaptable_.”

            “It’s good for Galvatron—he’s still our Emperor and everything and we all know Cyclonus keeps the Empire _organized_ , but Galvatron will fight like a demon to protect everything that the Decepticons are,” Carnivac said, softly.   “Most of those who want to rule an empire don’t want to make the effort to protect it themselves—they’ll throw others out there to do it for them.   Not Galvatron—he’ll lead the charge and push everyone back to make sure nobody _‘touches his stuff’_ , so to speak.”   Then Carnivac took the last swallow from his can of Energon and put it on the table.   “And he’d have never had done all this without you, Hot Rod.   You got him to see just what it was he **_truly wanted_** —what that vision of an Empire could truly be…………..you got him to be _more_ than what Megatron was, which was a sheer tyrant.”

            “ _I just_ ………..I just know what I’ve seen in his Spark.   I’ve seen the greatness he’ll become—I just need to get him to see it, too,” the flame-colored mech murmured.   “One day, anyways……..”

            Then the embassy continued on with the rest of its day.   Hot Rod was extremely pleased to see Autobots in the seating area of the lobby—or lingering around the lobby area—happily chatting and being friendly.   All of this was the way the embassy was _meant to be used_ —for Autobots to be Autobots.   And…….for the Decepticons simply visiting or working there, for them to become friends with Autobots.

            Slipstream and Windblade also still proved to be extremely popular to the guests in the embassy—they received plenty of attention as they both saw to the comforts and ease of the guests.   Windblade had proven to be so much more outgoing than Hot Rod had initially thought she would be—and he attributed it to her role that she probably played in the Shison Household back on Jiyuuishi, which wasn’t all that different to what she was doing here today.

            Even Galvatron’s presence in the embassy today was _not_ detracting from the enjoyment of the Autobot (and some Kesian Decepticon) guests.   They were on the third floor anyways, in Hot Rod’s room.   So, after visiting with the guests in the lobby, Hot Rod went all the way upstairs and to his room.   He could hear talking—Novablaze and Galvatron’s voices—even before he got there.

            “Hey guys, what’s up?” Hot Rod said, cheerfully.

            “ _Carrrrrrriiiiiii_!!!”  Stormbreaker squealed, toddling over to the flame-colored mech and grabbing at his knees happily.   He bent down to pick her up and she slapped her tiny servos against his cheeks fondly.   “ _Cari!   Cari!   Cari!_ ”   She giggled.

            “Sire and I were talking a little about your trip,” Novablaze said with a big grin.

            “This will be the first time I’ve attended a human bonding ceremony like this, but I know Danny really loves Amber, so………..” Hot Rod said.   “Galvatron………are you really okay with going?”

            “Why should I not go?   _I was invited!_    It shall give me more experience at interacting with fleshlings—especially as they appear to outnumber our species in the galaxy,” Galvatron responded with a loud snort.   “This is something you wish me to have, do you not?”

            “ _Yeah_.   Thanks for coming with me,” Hot Rod said, softly, a light flush coloring the area around his optics.

            Galvatron chuckled, clearly able to sense his little lover’s longing for intimacy right now.   He glyph-messaged a request to Slipstream, for her to come upstairs and care for the sparklings, while he took Hot Rod away for a few hours.   Hot Rod hadn’t even realized Galvatron had done that, until Slipstream gave a polite knock on the open door’s frame and entered the room.

            “Storm, will you be a good little femme and go to sleep if you’re tired and Slipstream puts you in your crib?”  Hot Rod asked, rubbing his nasal ridge against the femmeling’s.

            “ _’Kay_ ,” she murmured, shyly.   She rubbed her forehead against his chin and purred happily, right before the flame-colored mech handed her off to the teal-and-purple Decepticon femme.

            “You be good, too, Nova,” Hot Rod chuckled, walking over and patting his mechling’s shoulder fondly.

            “Of course, cari,” Novablaze said, a grin on his faceplate.

            “Thanks, Slipstream……..I’ll be back later,” the young Autobot said, smiling at her.

            “It is _never_ a problem,” Slipstream responded with a smile.   “Take the time to enjoy yourselves, no rush to get back, both little ones are always very good about sleeping when they’re tired.”

            Galvatron scooped Hot Rod up into his arms and flew out the window.   “Now, my little Prime—is there something _specific_ you would like to do tonight?”  The Decepticon Leader asked, warmth and amusement in the tone of his voice.

            There was so much that Hot Rod always enjoyed Galvatron doing to him, he couldn’t specify one particular kink tonight.   “ _Ummm_.   As long as you frag me a whole lot, I’m good……….” He murmured, snuggling against his powerful lover.

            “ _So easy to please, my little Prime!_ ”   Galvatron chortled softly.   He changed course from the palace to the outer atmosphere of Chaar.   Then he hovered high in the sky and looked around, holding tightly to the smaller mech in his arms.   “ _Hmmmm_.   Where will we have the best view and the most appealing environment?”   He murmured, looking down at the planet and scanning it very carefully.   The Decepticon Leader made little mutters and mumbles to himself as he drifted quite some distance in the sky, viewing the surface of the center of his Empire.   “ _Ah, **there**_ …….” the purple-and-grey mech chuckled, flying down far out from the main area of the palace and its newer areas.  

            There were some ruins that were not in as devastated condition as the others that were across the planet.   A whole floor frame of a building was still mostly intact, even if its walls were long since gone.   Before landing, he held his legs over a large slab and used the rockets in his boots to blow away dust and dirt from the surface of the object.   Then the powerful Emperor of the Decepticons landed.

            “Still a bit worn and dusty,” Galvatron grunted, folding his arms over his chest and appraising the large stone and metal slab.

            “Here, let me take care of it,” Hot Rod said, holding out his arms and switching his servos out for the tools in his various tool-adaptor slots.   He cycled a reverse vacuum out to blow the remainder of the debris away from the slab.   “What do you have in mind tonight, my lord?”   He asked, curiously, looking up into Galvatron’s faceplate.

            “A little bit of captivity-play,” he responded.   “To make it different than our usual bondage routines, we should have a suitable desolation setting for _captive and conqueror_.”

            “I’m intrigued, my lord,” the flame-colored mech laughed.   “What kind of captive should I play?   A weak one or a spirited one?”   He asked, grinning up at Galvatron.

            “You will play _yourself_ , as always—I will be pleased at your interest and energy for the role, whichever one you choose,” Galvatron chuckled, swiping a couple fingers beneath Hot Rod’s chin.

            “Well, to get in the mood, _I think the conqueror needs to catch his captive first_!”   Hot Rod laughed, hopping back, then he turned and ran out of the building area.

            Galvatron roared with laughter and took off after Hot Rod, by flying after him.  He began firing his cannon with low-powered, playful shots.   The flame-colored mech dodged and taunted, sometimes firing off shots from his arm piping and sometimes transforming into alt mode and zooming around rocks and remnants of buildings or fixtures.   Then around one large towering rock, Galvatron swooped down with his palm out and pushed Hot Rod’s front end into the ground, effectively stopping him and giving him only a slight, playful denting.

            “ _I have you now, foolish little Autobot_ — _and now you will submit to me or you shall regret it!_ ”  Galvatron taunted, grabbing Hot Rod’s front bumper and flipping him over on to his top side.

            Hot Rod’s wheels spun futilely and then he transformed back into primary mode.   Galvatron was on top of him, pinning him into the dirt and debris very quickly.   It was hard not to tease and laugh, but he _needed_ to stick to the roleplaying, so Hot Rod put up as much of a struggle as he could against Galvatron’s strength (which was playful and not his true strength, but even still………..much stronger than what Hot Rod’s strength actually was) and even used some very choice words.

            Galvatron’s servo curled lightly around the younger mech’s throat and Hot Rod very nearly went still, beginning to hyperventilate a little.   Sensing this was not going to be good and picking up on some very faint tones of true fear, Galvatron’s servo whipped away from his lover’s neck-cabling quickly and he slapped the flame-colored mech instead.   Hot Rod exvented hard, relieved Galvatron had changed his mind with that particular gesture………..he’d have rather have had the stinging slap instead, anyways.   Just……….. _not that choking grip_ —it reminded him too much of a time not all that long ago, really, when he was weaker and unwanted by anyone at all.

            “It is time to take my prey to my base and get all the information out of him that I desire,” Galvatron chortled, throwing the littler mech sloppily over his shoulder and then stomping to the cleared off slab from earlier.   He threw Hot Rod down onto it with a thud, the flame-colored mech felt the edges of his spoiler bend with a small shock of pain through his systems.

            The pain had ignited his arousal even hotter than before.

            Hot Rod was always amazed at how much stuff Galvatron kept in his subspace pockets—and not a single bit of it were really useful materials to have at hand……….not a weapon, not a datapad……….Galvatron had only steel rope, handcuffs and many other utilities for bondage play instead.   The Decepticon Leader kept glaring at him not to move, even as he dropped a bunch of things on the edge of the slab by Hot Rod’s pedes.   Galvatron walked around the slab, placing hard steel pinions with eye-loops into the sides of the slab, at the approximate areas of Hot Rod’s servos and pedes.

            “Perhaps I should have done this prep work before we played, it ruins the mood a little,” Galvatron muttered as he extended the chain on the handcuffs a little.

            “Sorry, maybe I should _protest_ a little more?”   Hot Rod chuckled, his engines already revving hard with his arousal.   “ _You’ll never get **anything** out of me!   You evil, **horrible** Decepticon!_”   The flame-colored mech cried sharply.

            Galvatron gave a devious grin down at the flame-colored mech.  “ _Oh-ho!_    My captive **_does_** have a stinging glossa there!   _Silence, until I am ready to interrogate you, little Autobot brat!_ ”  The powerful Decepticon Leader chortled gleefully.   He grabbed one of the two long steel cords and wrapped a couple coils about the ankles of Hot Rod’s boots and then tied each end off through the pinions he’d placed on the sides of the slab—the flame-colored mech’s legs were now suitably spread for some premium embarrassment to his captive.

            Then Galvatron did the same to the forearms of the littler mech, pushing in the servos to the top of Hot Rod’s helm and cuffing them securely above the red helm.   After he checked his work, the powerful war machine stood up straight, folding his arms over his chest, and gazed down appraisingly at his captive—who had begun using plenty of colorful language the whole time he was being tied up.   He was very pleased with the roleplaying so far—and the lovely view of his Autobot captive, bound securely on the slab………..to be interrogated ( _played with_ ) at his whim.

            “Now then, little brat of an Autobot—tell me, what is it you desire tonight?”  Galvatron growled, leaning down and grabbing Hot Rod’s chin roughly.

            Hot Rod was puzzled for a moment at the seeming deviation of the roleplay, but realized that Galvatron’s own straightforward honesty meant he couldn’t really do the complete fantasy roleplay of what he was _supposed_ to do here— _interrogate for information_ —so he just adapted his words and set a growling, snarling tone to them instead.   So, Hot Rod pretended that Galvatron was being ruthless and demanding vital secrets, because _his imagination_ was much more adaptable than Galvatron’s.

            “ _I’ll never tell you anything, you Decepticreep!_ ”  Hot Rod snarled back, trying to jerk his head out of Galvatron’s grip.   The sensation from his interface array was getting hotter and tighter—he felt like he would go supernova before any interfacing would be done between them!

            “Oh, you _shall_ use that voice for me—I promise you that,” the grey-and-purple mech chuckled.   He reached one of his servos up, still holding Hot Rod’s chin with the other, and scraped his claws across a portion of the sunbright yellow spoiler.

            **_That_** definitely got Hot Rod’s voice active, he screeched with pain, even as ripples of pleasure shot through all his systems and went straight to his array, which throbbed with desire, even with the panels still closed up.   He felt like he probably just had a short and fast overload, but he wasn’t certain of that.

            “Talk, Autobrat……..tell me what you want or else,” Galvatron hissed sharply, standing up straight and aiming another slap across the littler mech’s faceplate.

            “ _Never!_ ”  Hot Rod cried, fire and desire consuming him.   Maybe he _was_ a bit messed up for enjoying things like this, but it was okay—because Galvatron would **_never_** truly harm him beyond a few dents and scratches—but he loved having Galvatron’s attention on him, always.

            “Never, _hmmm_?”  The Decepticon Leader chuckled wryly.   “We shall see about that,” he added, planting a servo on the slab down by Hot Rod’s hips and then used his free servo to caress the flame-colored mech’s groinplating teasingly.

            The young Autobot’s systems overrode his own command system and his interface array panels snapped open a bit too eagerly.   Hot Rod groaned deeply as Galvatron’s fingers sunk into the folds of his valve a couple inches.   His grey spike pressurized to full and leaked with pre-transfluid from the tip, dripping down the length.

            “It seems my captive has a _different_ idea of torture—well, as long as I get what it is **_I want_** , I do not mind which methods I have to use,” the grey-and-purple mech laughed, pushing his digits in deeper and scraping his claws lightly along the interior walls and nodes eagerly awaiting charge.   He teased his little lover’s insides, bringing the fever-pitch of the desire to interface to an even higher peak for his precious little Prime.   “ ** _Speak_** , my captive— _tell me what it is you desire_!”   He said, his voice playfully-angry, but fiercely commanding.

            “ _No, I **cannot** submit to a tyrant like you!_”   Hot Rod cried, his body shivering with need and desire.   His shameless valve clenched on Galvatron’s digits greedily.   He wanted it _so badly_ , he just wanted to scream at Galvatron to frag him now and damn the consquences!!!   “ _I………..I **will** not!_”   He sobbed.

            “Oh, but you _must_!   **_Look at you_** , you are so very much at your limit, little Autobot!”  Galvatron chortled, moving his servo slowly—his digits sliding in and out quite easily with all the lubricant his little lover’s valve was producing.   The powerful Leader of the Decepticons grinned down at the flame-colored mech, his sharpened incisor dentae an always-appealing grin to Hot Rod.   “ ** _Speak!  Tell me what it is you want!_** ”   He commanded sharply.

            “ ** _I_** _………….oh, I…………_ ” Hot Rod moaned, trying to arch his back, but he was held down pretty tightly by the bound limbs across the slab.   “ ** _Frag me_** _………please frag me, my lord…………?_ ”  He whispered, so very desperately, his own body betraying him by clutching so wantonly to Galvatron’s digits.

            “You were quite easy to conquer, my little Prime,” Galvatron murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over the flame-colored mech’s.   “Your fire is still **_your fire_** , regardless of the method of claiming it— _never let it die, my Prime_ ,” he said, pulling away so he could climb up on the slab between his lover’s legs.   He cut the cables on Hot Rod’s legs and pushed them up as he spread them wide.   “No matter the paths our lives take us soon enough—they will always run parallel and we may be together whenever we wish it.   **_Never_** let your fire dim or die, because we are apart—you are stronger than you had been when you carried the Matrix before.   **_You are my Prime_** ,” Galvatron whispered fiercely, rubbing his spike teasingly against the damp mesh lips as he gazed down into Hot Rod’s blue optics.

            Deep within Hot Rod, he felt great warmth at Galvatron’s words.  In his own way, the powerful Decepticon cared for him and he treasured _that_ more than anything in the universe—well, except for his children, maybe.   No matter how his body felt around Galvatron, how badly he always wanted to be fragged by his dangerous lover— _Galvatron treasured him_ , just as much as he treasured Galvatron.   This was the way their relationship had become and evolved to and was _always meant to be_.   Hot Rod was destined to be Autobot Leader for hundreds of years—and he was definitely going to get there with Galvatron only a mere glyph-message away when he needed his powerful lover.    Autobot Leader and Decepticon Leader, they would forge a bright new future for the Transformer race………….. ** _together_**.

            “ _I love you, Galvatron_ ……….” Hot Rod said, quietly, gazing unwaveringly into his lover’s optics.

            “ _I know you do, Hot Rod_ ,” Galvatron responded with a grin as he slid his spike into the waiting valve.   “And **_you_** are my irreplaceable treasure,” he added, pushing himself in deep.

            Hot Rod groaned, shuttering his optics and focusing only on the pleasure that his lover was giving him now.   Galvatron’s thrusts were measured—sometimes slow and shallow, sometimes fast and deep—he knew exactly what rhythm to find for the both of them and when to change it up for more pleasure.   The flame-colored mech’s valve began to clench harder, wanting the finale to their union so badly.   His calipers drummed fiercely along Galvatron’s spike until one solid push that had the head of the Decepticon’s spike hitting his anterior node changed everything.

            Hot Rod’s back arched and a wail that was above the pitch of normal sounds erupted from the young Autobot’s vocalizer, even as his calipers wrenched down hard on Galvatron’s spike, squeezing it so hard that Galvatron couldn’t help but follow his little lover into a satisfying overload.   Hot transfluid filled his clenching valve and all the charge from his lover’s spike was caught by the nodes deep within him.   Hot Rod’s yellow-orange-red lightning charges arched and flared all across his frame as Galvatron’s powerful charges of violet and grey lightning met and clashed and merged with those of the colors of flames.  

            Just like the two of them, always clashing and merging.   _It was perfection._

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Galvatron decided that as the base on Athenia was not adjustable for the company of many Transformers and he originally said he would allow the Autobot guests there to have whatever rooms they could fit in—so, he chose to request an area where he may place his flagship as a place where he and Hot Rod may have berths to properly sleep in during the several days of activities associated with this “ _wedding_ ” business.   However, to even further his sense of generosity, he said that to ease the strains on the Athenia base with so many Cybertronians as guests there during the special event— ** _all Cybertronians_** would be able to use his flagship’s habitation suites as temporary housing during the next few days.

            Optimus Prime was actually very impressed at Galvatron saying such a thing and suspected that Hot Rod had suggested the idea in such a way that made Galvatron feel so favorable about doing it.   He had to admit that he had initially been wrong in viewing the relationship between the two very different individuals, Optimus had watched Galvatron treasure and defend Hot Rod over the last nearly-three-years since he’d come back online.   It was a very strange relationship, but it was very strong.

            There was only Galvatron and Hot Rod from Chaar, though Galvatron had a _minimal ship crew_ of random Decepticons.   Optimus Prime had a number of Autobots from Earth and Cybertron, because this was the wedding of the child that belonged to the first human the Autobots met upon Earth—so, this particular event was very important to Earth-Cybertron relations, politically.   But it was also very important to everyone as individuals, friends and allies.  Ultra Magnus had to remain on Cybertron, because he needed to keep an eye on things, with Starscream still out there somewhere—and Kup was working security on Earth’s base for the Autobots, in Metroplex.

            But Bumblebee was with Optimus Prime, as was Jazz—a few of the original Autobots who had known Spike and watched him grow up, get married and have his son Daniel, with Carly.   Springer and Arcee were there, since they had watched Daniel grow up.   There were also about a dozen more Autobots, who had been able to come via a lottery drawing to decide who else could come beyond the requested individuals.

            And there were hundreds of humans—of course, Spike’s family had to consider a lot of guests politically, being the Chief Ambassador (and family) for Earth.   So, about two-thirds of the guests were _political invites_ —leaders or representatives of their nations.   One-third of the guests were personal friends and/or family invites on Daniel’s side of the family and on Amber’s side of the family.  Then there were the employees and families of the embassy, as well, who **_had_** to be invited—unless they wanted to leave the planetoid for the few days around the ceremony!   All of this was one reason that the wedding itself and most of the reception activities would be in the canyon area of the planetoid of Athenia—it was literally _the only place_ on the entire planetoid that could fit hundreds of humans and about twenty Transformers.

            “I _can’t_ possibly have every Autobot who identifies as _‘male’_ at my bachelor party the night before—not enough room in the entertainment lounge, but I need **_you_** to be there, big bro,” Daniel said, grinning up at Hot Rod.

            “ _Um_ , you’re sure?”  Hot Rod asked, shyly, poking his fingers together.

            “I need **_you_** to give me a good luck speech, bro,” Daniel laughed, patting the flame-colored mech’s left grey boot lightly.   “You’re my _‘best man’_ —you **_have_** to be there.   Unfortunately, you’re going to have to probably put up with a bunch of drunk human men asking you a ton of super-awkward questions about you and Galvatron and Cybertronian sex.”

            “Now, about this party, too………..there’s supposed to be a female _stripper_ involved?   **_Um_**.   I’m not sure about _that_ , Danny,” Hot Rod said, looking at his datapad and the itinerary—as well as all of his notes on what being a “ _best man_ ” contained.   Over on the other side of the room, he heard Spike try to cover his laughter as Thomas outright roared with it.

            “I have already told **_my father_** that if he tries it, I’ll exile him from the wedding party entirely,” Daniel said, dangerously, glaring over at Spike Witwicky and Doctor Jones.   For Daniel to address Spike as “ _father_ ” and not “ _Dad_ ” meant he was **_very serious_** about his words.   “I _don’t_ need that kind of stuff to have a good time the night before my wedding.   I just want my family, my friends…….. _and my big brother_ ……..to be there, okay?   Don’t be nervous, Hot Rod—you’ll be great at this, I promise.”

            “ _Okay_.  I’ll do my best,” Hot Rod responded with a smile.   “ _Uh_ , how many of those _‘awkward questions’_ do I actually have to answer?”   He asked, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with anxiety.

            “ ** _Please_**.   You _don’t_ have to answer any of those if you don’t want to—like I said, drunk people asking dumb questions,” Daniel chuckled, patting Hot Rod’s boot again.   He smiled up at his Autobot big brother encouragingly.

            “Since I’m _not drunk_ and I’m an adult—I want to ask those questions right now,” Thomas said with a smile, leaning forwards on the couch he and Spike were sitting on.   “I admit _I’m_ totally curious.   I know the surface of your relationship with Galvatron, but really…………how do you two _do it_ and have kids?   I mean, I imagine it’s not just a strict _‘interfacing’_ thing, as I’ve heard a few Autobots call the term………or else we’d have **_tons_** of little-bitty-bots all over the place.”

            Hot Rod sat down, crosslegged, in the middle of the floor and looked down at the two older humans sitting on the couch.   He placed his servos on his knees and incycled a deep breath.   “Every Cybertronian can interface via an array or via connector ports—those are two different ways to interface and they’re both very intense and meaningful on different levels.   Some prefer one method over another, some enjoy both.   And………one is physically a lot sloppier than the other, _that’s_ probably understood,” he began, quietly.   The three male humans all nodded in understanding.  “The array interfacing is probably close to what you humans term as _‘sex’_.   With a few design exceptions, almost all Cybertronians have **_both_** a spike and a valve and………..I hope I don’t have to explain _that_ with your human biological terms…………” he trailed off, a light pink flush showing beneath his optics.

            “I think we all know the equivalents, Hot Rod,” Spike said, giving the young Autobot a warm and encouraging smile.   Then he looked over at Thomas.   “It’s the same for mechs and femmes, they _both_ have both sets,” the long-time human friend of the Autobots said to his friend, who nodded in understanding.

            “Okay, **_so_** …………then it’s up to the individuals which one they want to be.   Sometimes partners are interchangeable.   I don’t really have that option with Galvatron, because he was designed with _only_ the spike function……….but it’s okay, because I think if it came to having to choose, I’d be a valve mech anyways,” Hot Rod said, softly, a light and slightly embarrassed chuckle in his voice.    “Now, Spark-bonding is the lesser known aspect of Cybertronian relationships—because it’s _very personal_ and _very private_.   In a way, it would be like if you humans mixed DNA with each other.   A Spark-bonding means we merge part of our Sparks—which contain _everything that we are_.   In our kind, Spark-bonding is rare and generally by a carefully considered choice, because it is _eternal_ …………if one partner dies and the Spark-bond is broken, it can be physically, mentally and emotionally damaging to the other partner and _they_ may want to die as well.   Very few can handle multiple Spark-bonds………”

            Hot Rod stopped, because he didn’t want to have to go on to the details of Megatron and how he forced multiple “ _partners_ ” to Spark-bond with him—or how Galvatron made the choice to claim Cyclonus and Scourge to prevent their deaths when Unicron died.   It would be too much off the path of the actual discussion to really go into those specific details right now.   Daniel patted his knee-joint and smiled up at him encouragingly.

            “ _So_.   Bearing sparklings,” the flame-colored mech said, after incycling a deep breath.  “Apparently it was a Quintesson design for our species and the military hardware line had forge protocols in their programming, while the consumer goods line had the carrier protocols in their programming.   These protocols are absolutely essential to an actual _‘sparking up’_ , but when the experiment had been deemed a failure by the Quintessons—Vector Sigma removed these protocols from all future Cybertronian systems,” he explained, motioning with his hands as he spoke.

            “So, wait—if these bits of programming were _removed_ ………..how do you and Galvatron have them?”  Thomas asked, his eyes wide as he gazed up at Hot Rod’s faceplate.

            “ _Unicron_?”   Spike asked, softly.

            “ _The Matrix_?”   Daniel added, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

            “ _Yes_.   To both.  Unicron altered Galvatron back to the _‘original programming’_ that the Quintessons created for the military hardware line, even as the Matrix inserted those protocols of the consumer goods line into my system,” Hot Rod answered, nodding his head.   “Because we both have those—and the answer that the Quintessons didn’t—we are the only _modern_ Cybertronians who can ignite sparklings.   The protocols, the array interfacing and the Spark-bonding……….all three must be there to truly ignite a newspark.”

            “Now that you both know that, do you plan to have anymore of them?”  Thomas asked, curiously, grinning up at Hot Rod.

            “I **_want_** to.   _One day_ ,” Hot Rod murmured, more pink coloring his faceplate beneath his optics.   “Life just feels very important to me……….. _I want to create more_.”

            “I think that as long as you and Galvatron can and want to do it—everyone should be favorable towards you for that,” Spike said with a light chuckle.   “There’s nothing wrong with a _‘working mom’_ , either.”   The older Witwicky lowered his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.   “It does make me curious though—if Vector Sigma sees that with the right partners and connections the forge-and-carry protocols really do work, who’s to say future creations that come out of the chamber won’t have that ability?   Since the Master Computer is the one who took it all away, it could give it all back.”

            “That’s true—and it might be a benefit to our species and the way the world looks at us,” Hot Rod added with a smile.   “I remember every time I went on _‘Meet the Universe’_ , they always wanted me to bring the brats—and Gaourl and Julea were so happy when I finally did bring them.”

            “If the organic species of the universe see that Transformers are pretty much the same way—they love, they bond and they produce children—they might start looking at them in a _‘less scary, much more interesting’_ view,” Thomas added, grinning at the flame-colored mech.   “Though—if future creations coming out of Vector Sigma’s chamber do have the forge-and-carry protocols……..you guys might need to write a book on **_how to_** and **_how not to_** get _‘sparked up’_!”   He laughed, warmly.

            “ _Oh, Primus, yes_!”   Hot Rod laughed, the tension in him finally released.  “The number one rule is _‘don’t Spark-bond while fragging’_ —as long as you do that, the chances of a spark up are zero!”

            They all talked for a little while longer, before Hot Rod returned to Galvatron’s ship to look for him and tell him about what he’d be doing tonight and that Galvatron was free to do what he wanted.   Galvatron was in recharge when Hot Rod returned to the ship and the flame-colored mech looked at him fondly before crawling in beside his lover and setting the timer on his recharge systems.   He curled up against Galvatron and took a nap next to the mech he loved with all of his Spark.   When his internal alarm went off and brought him out of recharge, Galvatron was already awake beside him and just laying there quietly, holding onto the littler mech next to him.

            “ _Oh_ , you could’ve woken me up,” Hot Rod murmured, propping himself up on an elbow to reach up and kiss his lover on the lips lightly.

            “I wanted to cherish this quiet moment, my Prime—there are very few of them left to us now,” Galvatron murmured.

            “ _You_ feel it, too, don’t you?   It’s _not_ just me?”  The flame-colored mech whispered, shivering lightly.

            “ _Mmm_.   Whether I am feeling it through you and our bond or whether I am sensing it myself—I feel it will be soon,” the powerful Decepticon said softly.   “We will still find time for one another, even when we are separated.   But _these moments_ , like this particular one, will no longer happen very often—I feel that when we have time for each other in the future, it will be _frantic and passionate_.   We shall be trying to get as much of each other as we can in very short amounts of time.”

            “ _Yeah_ ,” Hot Rod sighed, snuggling against Galvatron fondly.  “I feel like that, too, my Emperor.”   Then the flame-colored mech sat up and smiled down into his lover’s faceplate.   “So, tonight, I have to host a bachelor party—basically all the human males will go to get drunk the night before the wedding.”

            “ _How amusing these fleshlings are!_    Before such an important bonding ceremony, they all go and throw their rationality away,” Galvatron laughed sharply.

            “Maybe it gives them the courage to do something so eternal as a bonding?”  Hot Rod chuckled.   “Though I’m not involved in the other part—apparently the females go and do something similar as well.   Maybe it really **_is_** to give them courage to do something so important?”

            “Then the big ceremony is tomorrow, correct?   You will ensure your fleshling companions get some sleep, will you not?   Clearly _someone_ must be an adult around here and that will likely be you,” Galvatron said, yanking lightly on Hot Rod’s arm and pulling the smaller mech down on top of him.   “Then I shall wish you good luck tonight, in keeping the fleshlings in line,” he murmured, kissing the flame-colored mech with roughness and passion, swiping his glossa around inside of Hot Rod’s mouth and winning a low moan from his lover.

            “Thanks, my lord………..I’ll do my best and see you tomorrow,” Hot Rod said, grinning and giving Galvatron a final, light kiss before heading out to go to the bachelor party.

            And, **_that_** in itself, was definitely a new experience for Hot Rod that………..he decided he hoped he wouldn’t have to ever go through it again.  Inebriated fleshlings were definitely hard to handle in every way.   But as the flame-colored mech made sure that Daniel got into bed safely, it made him remember when the human was just a little boy—and the fond memories made the Autobot’s Spark grow warm and spin softly inside of its spark-casing.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The canyon on the planetoid Athenia—where Hot Rod had once just raced and run his engines, on medical leave there as Rodimus Prime—truly was “ _all decked out_ ” as Daniel had promised.   Massive flags and streamers of a durable quality were all hanging from everywhere and strung across the top of the canyon.   There was a large pavilion at one end, where the wedding party would eventually stand for the vows.   There was seating for humans and there was plenty of standing room for the Cybertronians invited to the ceremony.   The colors were a dark, midnight blue and silver (pale grey when the metallic color had to be substituted for in several instances) for the wedding—Hot Rod had understood colors were chosen by the bride and usually had personal meanings for her.   While the flame-colored mech didn’t know what those colors meant to Amber—he did think they were very eye-catching and beautiful, without being pastel-bright or garish, as he had observed from the various media things he had watched on human weddings.

            “All right, now traditionally the Best Man and Maid-of-Honor walk down the aisle together as the first to reach their places.   I know that’s very much impossible,” Spike said to Hot Rod.   We’ve made some exceptions for you and everything.   So, I want you to take your proper place at the pavilion—and **_I_** will escort Betsy down the aisle in your place.”

            “Got it, Spike,” the flame-colored mech said, nodding eagerly.

            “ _Now_.   I know holding onto a tiny little human-sized ring is impossible for you, so we’ve put the ring into a padded box that’s just large enough for you to hold on comfortably,” the long-time human friend of the Autobots chuckled warmly.   Hot Rod held out his hand and Spike brought out a box that fit in both of his own hands, then set it into the flame-colored mech’s palm, which fit just perfectly there.   “Hold onto it—and when Daniel asks you for the ring, present it and open the box for him.”

            “ _Yep_ , I remember,” the young Autobot responded, grinning.

            “How’s Galvatron holding up?”   Spike asked, tilting his head curiously up at the young Autobot.

            “ _Remarkably patiently_.   He really can be when he _wants_ to be,” Hot Rod chuckled softly.   “I think he felt he needed to do something different after the whole mess with Starscream.   As long as Starscream’s alive, he’ll be a pain in **_all_** of our afts.”

            “I suppose that is very true,” Spike said with a soft sigh.   “Well, good luck—it’s actually very easy for **_this_** part of things.   All you have to do is give him the ring, now………and stand around.   The reception will be the next part where you’ll have to do things and give speeches.”

            “ _Understood_ ,” Hot Rod answered, nodding.   He walked out of the tents and then went to the pavilion on his own.   Galvatron gave him an encouraging smile as he stood there, waiting patiently for the ceremony itself to begin.   The flame-colored mech was happy that Galvatron chose to stand beside him all these years.   It was going to be different to live separate lives again, seeing each other only on occasion once more………….but Hot Rod felt like he might actually be ready this time.  _‘And I owe it all to **you** , Galvatron.  You and I—we’ll bring in that future that I’ve seen shining so brilliantly in your Spark, my Emperor.   **I promise you that** ,’_ the young Autobot thought, fondly.

            It wasn’t that much longer before music started, echoing perfectly through the canyon, and the wedding procession began.   Hot Rod stood patiently near the priest and watched as Spike and Amber’s best friend, Betsy, walked down the long, dark blue-carpeted aisle together.   The long-time human friend of the Autobots walked the Maid-of-Honor to her position on the other side of the priest from Hot Rod, then smiled encouragingly up at Hot Rod and patted his grey boot before going to take his seat in the front row on the groom’s side.   Spike sat down between Carly and his father, Sparkplug Witwicky—who had been given permission to leave his elderly care home just for this ceremony.   The head of the Witwicky family was still mentally sharp, even if his body was more frail and he was in a wheelchair.   But Sparkplug wasn’t the only wheelchaired guest at the wedding, Spike’s old friend Chip Chase was on Athenia for the celebration as well.

            Then a teenage girl and two younger girls skipped down the aisle, throwing petals all over the place—the soft pink and white really stood out on the dark blue and fluttered on the velvet with the light breeze in the canyon.   They were members of Amber’s family and went to sit in the front row on the bride’s side when they got to the front and basically threw all the flower petals left in their blanket all over in front of the priest and the two waiting for the bride and groom to arrive.

            The music amped up just a little bit—showing that Blaster had **_perfect_** cue and control over how he was running the music for the ceremony—just as Daniel appeared at the end of the aisle, holding on to an older woman’s arm.   That would be Amber’s mother, _Elizabeth Krueger_.   She looked very beautiful in her soft, pale grey dress with its dark blue embroidery along the hem and neckline……..while Daniel looked incredibly handsome and freshly clean cut (he literally shaved right before getting dressed, as his beard liked to come in as quickly as possible anymore) in his black tuxedo, with its dark blue highlights (vest, tie and pocket handkerchief).   Daniel walked down the aisle, step-in-step with Elizabeth Krueger and very politely walked her to her seating spot in the front row of the groom’s side, in one of the two empty chairs waiting there.   He bowed deeply and formally to her, before stepping up to the platform and standing near Hot Rod.

            “How’re you holding up, big bro?”  Daniel whispered, reaching up and patting his best friend’s knee-joint fondly.

            “I’m good, Danny,” Hot Rod murmured back.   “And you?”

            “Good to go,” the young man responded with a grin.   “ _And I can’t wait_ ………” he chuckled softly, turning his attention down to the end of the aisle as the music increased in volume and intensity.

            Everyone’s heads turned at that moment.   And a few soft sobs echoed in the nearby area.   At the very end of the aisle, the bride had appeared, her arm looped with a tall, older man’s.   Amber Krueger was with her father, _Richard_ , for that final walk to her destiny with the young man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.   Her elaborate dress was pure white, with gorgeous dark blue embroidery of vines and flowers along the back lines of the wide skirt’s hoop and swooping down to circle the lightly trailing hem on the velvety carpet.   Along the cuffs of the long sleeves, that had a brace-piece on the back of her hands (connected through an elastic loop around her middle fingers on each hand) and the mildly dipping v-neck of the dress was more embroidery.   The silver band of the tiara atop her head also had dark blue embroidery on the frontispiece, even as the thin veil blurred her face.   The wrap around her bouquet was dark blue and the flowers were a mix of tinted roses in blue and grey.   Her long, reddish hair was in a beautiful long braid with small blue flowers twined into the twists.

            Her father had a tuxedo in the same style as Daniel’s, with much of the same accoutrements—just that Richard Krueger’s colors were pale grey instead.   Two young children, the little twin siblings of Amber’s— _Adam and Rebecca_ —were holding up the ends of the train of her dress.

            The four began their slow trek down the aisle, keeping to the beat of the music.   The music was the only thing that could be heard—all voices, all sobs and whispers had stopped as the bride traversed the aisle with her father and her sibling attendants.   They finally approached the platform and Daniel held out his hand towards Richard, dipping his shoulders respectfully to the man who would soon become his father-in-law.

            Amber’s father smiled and placed his daughter’s hand in that of the young man who was about to become his son-in-law, then Richard also dipped his shoulders formally to Daniel and turned to walk to his empty seat next to his wife.   Elizabeth motioned to Adam and Rebecca, who giggled and dashed over to sit in their parents’ laps.   The music reached its final notes as Daniel and Amber both turned to the priest, then it stopped to let the ceremony begin.

            The priest said his carefully practiced words, then allowed for the exchange of the two soon-to-be-weddeds’ personally written wedding vows to be said.   Daniel asked for the ring from Hot Rod, even as Amber asked for the ring from Betsy.   The two held their rings reverently, with Amber going first to speak her vows.   As she finished her vows, she slipped the gold wedding band onto Daniel’s left ring finger.   Daniel soon did the same, giving his wedding vows with a strong and emotional voice, finally slipping on the gold-and-diamond wedding ring onto Amber’s left ring finger, replacing the engagement band with the true band of bonding.

            “And now, with all as witness—is there anyone present, who feels that this young man and this young woman should not be wedded, speak now or forever hold their peace?”  The priest said to the large assembly.

            If anyone had tried to say anything, there would probably be a large fight on the premises—so, it was best that _no one_ said anything at all right now.

            “Then in the name of all we hold holy, I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest said, nodding at the two before him.   “You may now kiss your bride,” he concluded.

            Daniel and Amber turned towards each other, he raised her left hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly, before letting go of her hand and then reached up to lift the veil and fold it back over the top of her tiara and head.   The young man leaned down and they both tilted their heads to kiss, long and deep.

            Even as the entire canyon erupted into cheers and applause.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Of course, the first dance was traditionally between the Best Man and Maid-of-Honor.   Hot Rod chuckled and let Betsy sit in the crook of his arm and she leaned against his chest as he moved lightly in dance pattern steps.  The two of them exchanged a few amusing anecdotes about the newly wedded couple they represented, as the song went on for about five minutes—afterwards, everyone else was welcome to dance.

            _Or eat_.   After all, right before the dancing started, food was served and the wedding cake was cut.

            The breeze was nice through all the tents in the canyon—it was clear that the walls of the canyon blocked most of the wind, which was making the flags and the streamers at the top of the canyon ripple enthusiastically.

            Since the Cybertronians invited did not eat—though they were served some light Energon beverages made especially for the event—most of them just wandered around and talked with one another or the other guests.   However, _a lot of attention_ was garnered when Galvatron walked up to Hot Rod and held out a hand to his little lover.   The flame-colored mech was very surprised……… _and extremely charmed_ ………by Galvatron silently asking him to dance.   Hot Rod hadn’t even realized Galvatron _could_ dance………!

            “Even after all these years, you still manage to throw out a real surprise to me, my lord,” Hot Rod chuckled, leaning his head against Galvatron’s chestplate and easily followed his lover’s steps through the slow dance.

            “My little Prime, it shall be my goal to always keep surprising you—no matter how many centuries pass for us,” the Decepticon Leader chuckled softly, his pedes easily shifting through the dance steps.

            “I _definitely_ look forward to that, my dear Emperor,” the flame-colored mech laughed, cherishing his powerful lover’s presence and frame against him.

            After the bride and groom ate a little bit, they asked for their dance, with a song that they had personally chosen for the reception.   Everyone’s eyes and optics were watching the newly wedded couple dance their dance, until………..

            “Excuse me, Optimus Prime?”  A soft voice said as a human hand lightly tapped on the Autobot Leader’s left blue boot.

            The red-white-blue mech knelt gently, so he could speak quietly while Amber and Daniel danced.   “Yes, what may I do for you?”   He asked, softly.

            “An embassy staff member asked if I would come to get you, there’s a call for you from Cybertron,” the middle-aged male human said, quietly.   “Please follow me, I’ll take you to the communications room…….” he added with a soft smile.

            “ _Very well_.   Allow me to let someone know I must absent myself from the reception right now,” Optimus Prime answered.   The Autobot Leader stood up and sent a glyph message to both Hot Rod and Bumblebee.

 

**|I have a communications request from Cybertron.  Hot Rod, Bumblebee—please act in my absence, I will return as soon as I can.|**

 

**|Got it, Optimus.|**

 

**|Try not to be gone too long!|**

 

            The first response had been from Bumblebee, while the second, cheerful one had been from Hot Rod.   After he was satisfied his absence would not be missed too much, he followed the tall human male back to the Athenia base.   It wasn’t until they were at the base and away from all the Cybertronians in the canyon that the Autobot Leader had begun to get a very strange feeling—almost like an EM field emanating from the human he had been following.

            “May I ask for your name—so that I may thank you properly?”  Optimus asked as they stopped in the communications room.   He tried not to let it show that he had suddenly become suspicious of this particular human being.

            “ _Ah_ , Optimus—I _wondered_ how long it would be before you got suspicious,” the human chuckled, reaching up to run a hand leisurely through his short black hair.   “I suppose all the excitement and the mass cluster of Cybertronians in the area drowned my own field out.”

            “ _Wait_.   This **_cannot_** be possible!”   Optimus Prime gasped, going into a defensive stance and just about to reach into subspace for his weapon.   The voice from the human had become much more familiar with the slight echo of a Cybertronian’s vocalizer to it.   “ _Starscream_?   This _cannot_ be you!”   He snapped, pulling his rifle out of subspace and aiming it at the human.

            “Isn’t this nice, though?   I mean, as long as I’m around humans—this _really_ doesn’t stand out!   I have to compliment my dear Quintesson partner’s skills!”  The human chortled.   “However, the Pretender Shell still doesn’t completely erase the Cybertronian EM field.   But the compression protocols are absolutely perfect.”   Then he saw Optimus raise a servo to his audial to message someone.   “ _Don’t do it_.   I _warn_ you!”  Starscream snapped sharply, whipping a gun out of subspace and firing off a shot as warning.

            Optimus Prime noted that although the gun was small, it was powerful and could do damage even to his own armour.   He stopped, straightened up, and placed his rifle back into subspace.   “Very well, you clearly have me where you want me, Starscream—so, speak your mind,” the Autobot Leader said, firmly.

            “Surrender and I will let you live— _all you Autobots_ —as prisoners and slaves of the Destron Empire,” Starscream chuckled, once again making the gesture of running a hand through his hair.   “You will give Cybertron to me, _now_ ,” he said, his voice dark and serious as he gazed up into Optimus Prime’s optics.

            **_Meanwhile, back at the canyon…………._**

            “ _Hot Rod!   Hot Rod!_ ”  A familiar child’s voice said, banging a fist on the flame-colored mech’s grey boot.

            “Hey Kicker, what’s up?”   The young Autobot said, kneeling down from where he was standing talking to Galvatron and Bumblebee.

            “Optimus is in trouble!   He **_really_** is!”   Kicker Jones cried, desperately.   “That guy he was with— _he felt Cybertronian_!”   The little boy yelled.

            Hot Rod quickly raised a servo to his audial and got no response from Optimus Prime whatsoever.   This had to be some kind of camoflage thing, like those monster bot Destrons that had the organic seeming look to them.   And if it **_was_** ………there was only one person it could be— _only one mech_ would have the guts to come to Athenia with not just Optimus Prime here, but Galvatron as well!

            “ _’Bee!_    I’m going after Optimus!”  Hot Rod snapped.   “ _Galvatron!_    It might be Starscream!”   He said, quickly.

            Galvatron gave a snarl of fury and scooped Hot Rod up into his arms, flying off to the Athenia base at his fastest speed.   They focused on Optimus Prime’s EM field and rushed through the base as quickly as possible.

            **_In the communications room………_**

            “ _Awww_.   It looks like our talk is over, I’m afraid,” Starscream said with a sigh.   “I wonder who tipped them off?   Well, since we could not come to a decision, you and I—there’s _only one way_ to end this!”

            With those words, there was a phase-shifting in the place of the human-looking male.   It changed into a type of armoured being and the compression protocol released.   The Pretender Shell opened and Starscream stepped out of it, reaching over his shoulder for his sword, as the Shell phased out into a subspace pocket.   He rushed forwards and drove his sword deep into Optimus Prime’s chest before the Autobot Leader could even react.

            “ ** _Starscream!_** ”   Galvatron thundered, wrenching open the doors forcefully.

            “ _Optimus!_ ”   Hot Rod cried, instantly rushing over to the wounded Autobot Leader.

            “Sorry, boys………but I _must_ dash!”  Starscream chortled, getting ready to rush past Galvatron.

            “ ** _You will not get past me!_** ”  The Decepticon Leader snarled sharply.

            “ _Galvatron!   Let him go!   We have to get help for Optimus!   I’m glyphing Hook on your ship!_ ”  Hot Rod screamed, trying to get his powerful lover’s attention.   “I need you to fly him there as fast as you can!   **_Please Galvatron!_**    This wound will be fatal if he doesn’t get help right away!”

            “ _Nnnngh_!!!”  Galvatron grunted, stepping aside and letting Starscream go, as he scooped up Optimus Prime’s body and made straight for his flagship at his top speed.     

            Hot Rod was quickly behind him, driving at his top speed even as he glyphed Bumblebee about the situation—warning them to make sure Starscream was gone and they’d take care of the Autobot Leader’s injuries.   He also told Bumblebee to make sure the wedding reception kept going—this was Daniel’s big day and not to let it be ruined by anything whatsoever!!!   They would take care of Optimus Prime back on Galvatron’s flagship.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Though it was difficult for the reception to keep going, once the news began to circulate—everyone understood that to just cancel things and sit around worrying would do nothing.   As long as the Decepticon’s CMO was doing the surgery until First Aid arrived and they worked together, there was nothing anyone else could do anyways.   So the best thing was to let the reception keep going through the remainder of the day.

            The two best medics that both the Autobots and the Decepticons could offer worked their miracles and had Optimus Prime fixed up and in recovery by the end of the day.

            While almost everyone had eventually tapered off from the slow conclusion of the wedding day festivities.   Daniel excused himself from his new wife for a short time, because he needed to be there for Hot Rod—and it was a good thing Amber understood how important that was.   She had lots of family to spend time with and the two of them still had their honeymoon planned, so _they_ would have plenty of time together later on.

            “How is he?”  Spike asked, looking up at Galvatron as his son was over trying to console Hot Rod.

            “He shall recover, however—the recovery shall be _very slow_.   His spark-casing was damaged in the blow and this means he cannot do much in the way of physical activities for quite some time,” the Decepticon Leader explained quietly.   “There are many medical things I do not claim to understand, but even **_I_** comprehend that damage to one’s spark-casing is critical.”

            “I see,” Spike murmured, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing deeply.

            **_Meanwhile……….._**

            “I’m sorry that this happened, Danny,” Hot Rod sighed, softly.

            “Hey, at least it _wasn’t_ Galvatron’s fault, right?”   Daniel chuckled, lightly punching his Autobot big brother’s grey boot.   That went back to the joke they had made when the young man told the flame-colored mech about his engagement just about a year ago.   Hot Rod gave a wry smile and soft chuckle.   “Don’t worry, the festivities went on and it was probably to be expected for _my family_ at any rate.   I mean, I’ve always heard how Megatron actually attacked while my mom and dad were getting married, since they got married right outside the _Ark_.”

            “Now comes the _really hard part_ ,” Hot Rod murmured, quietly.

            “But at least Optimus is alive, right?   Not dead, like we worried about?”  Daniel said, softly, looking up at his Autobot big brother with concern as he knew exactly where this conversation was going.

            “ _Yeah_.   As soon as he’s awake, then………well, that’s what it is,” the flame-colored mech sighed, shaking his head and reaching up to rub the back of his neck.   “Even then—I _can’t_ leave Chaar immediately, I’ll need at least a week to get my stuff together.   The stuff I need and………to find out what my younglings want.   I’ll need to leave things in Ultra Magnus’ care until then.”

            “ _Don’t worry_.   This is what you have been working towards, even if you didn’t realize it,” the young human male responded, lightly reaching up to pat the Autobot’s knee-joint in consolation.

            “ _Yeah_ , but………..what will the Autobots think about this whole situation?”   Hot Rod whispered.

            “Optimus can explain the truth about it and Ultra Magnus will completely support you,” Daniel said, firmly.   “Please, big bro— ** _don’t_** stress out over this.   It’s……… _what’s meant to be_ , you know?”

            “Hot Rod—Optimus is awake and asking to see you,” First Aid said as he and Hook came down to the main deck waiting area of the ship.

            “ _Yeah_.   On my way,” the flame-colored mech responded, standing up.   He gazed at Galvatron as he walked past—the Decepticon Leader just gave him an encouraging smile.   He went in to the habitation suite that was being used for Optimus Prime’s recovery room.   “ _Hey_ ,” the young Autobot greeted in a soft voice, as he walked over to the berth.

            “I think you were aware of all this,” the Autobot Leader said, his voice very soft with his recovery.

            “ _Well_.   I knew that the Matrix would come back to me, I just _really hoped_ it wouldn’t mean your death………you know?”   Hot Rod murmured, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.   “Galvatron and I have talked about this a lot and the both of us felt it would be best not to bring it up to anyone…………or else they might accuse us of plotting to kill you or something dumb like that.”   Then Hot Rod put his servos on his hips and looked at Optimus with determination.   “Did you speak with the Matrix?   Did they explain _why_ to you?”

            “ _Yes_.   And I understand their decision for this,” the older mech responded.

            “ _Okay_.   But look,” the flame-colored mech began holding his predecessor’s gaze.   “Things are changing for our race and what **_I_** need to do is that I need to be out in the universe—that means I _need_ capable command staff in our outlets.   It’s like when I was staffing the embassy on Chaar or helping Onslaught prepare the entertainment district.   Magnus has been in charge of Cybertron for quite some time—I’ve already started thinking of what’s needed elsewhere and _you’re_ needed here on Earth, for our allies here.   They know you and they respect you and you’ve focused here since your return.”

            Optimus Prime nodded.

            “All of this will leave me free to interact with the Galactic Alliance and our representatives _out there_ , that’s where **_I_** need to be—for the Autobots and the Decepticons both,” Hot Rod explained.   He looked around for a chair and walked over to grab it, sitting in it backwards with his forearms resting on the back of the chair.   “We’ve still got Starscream out there— _clearly_ —and the Destron Army is just going to get bigger.   His goal is _Cybertron_ and that’s why we need to strengthen our alliance with the Decepticons.   Most Destrons _were_ Decepticons once and they fight with all the ferocity they were **_programmed_** to…………and, while we Autobots retaliated in the war for millennia on end, our programming’s not as suited to it as the Decepticons’ programming is.   It’s time we follow the dreams that _we_ want to follow and Galvatron will be only too happy to fight Starscream—we can all finally do what it is we’re all suited for.”

            “You understand and comprehend a lot more of our past than I do.   Alpha Trion tried to explain many things to me, but I did not understand them,” the revered Autobot Leader said, shaking his head lightly.

            “ _That’s_ what I was born for, Optimus—to understand us and our place in the universe,” Hot Rod said, smiling at his predecessor.   “I’ve never spoken about my birth and origins much—mostly because I spent more time hating myself than accepting myself all these years.   Unlike all of you, I came out of Vector Sigma’s chamber **_alone_** and I didn’t know what to do.   I didn’t know what Autobots were or what Decepticons were or why Cybertron looked so demolished—my core programming is even different than all of yours, I’m not exactly military hardware or consumer goods.   I’m like……… _well_ , I’m like the _Mini-Cons_ actually.   I was programmed as a supplement to our species and my programming was to translate us to the universe.   But how was a translator supposed to translate when he didn’t even know what he was supposed to translate?”  The flame-colored mech laughed softly.   He held up his servos before him and looked through the space between his digits up at the ceiling.   “I’m only about thirty years old Optimus, very young for our species—and being alone meant I didn’t know what side to go to.   I wandered Cybertron for about ten years, watching the battles and those fighting them—trying to figure out where I _needed_ to be and just what my purpose truly was.”

            Optimus Prime seemed surprised, not just that Hot Rod was so young and wandered Cybertron alone for a decade, but the fact that he remembered how Daniel had chewed him out for not treating a young mech to the education he needed and deserved.   The Autobot Leader reached up and rubbed the side of his helm absently.

            “Then what made you choose the Autobots?”   the older mech asked, tilting his head curiously.

            “ _Ultra Magnus_ ,” Hot Rod answered, grinning at his predecessor.   “I know he’d never, ever remember this…………since I was kinda hiding and watching anyways……………but this was when he had his old armour.   Do you remember that?   The red and white armour—there wasn’t any blue in it yet?”   He asked.  Optimus Prime nodded.   “I watched Ultra Magnus on the field of battle—how cool and confident he was, and how compassionate he could be.   And I thought to myself that **_THAT_** was what I wanted to be like.”

            “Was that the battle where his armour got damaged?”   Optimus asked, curiously.

            “ _Yeah_.   And even when he broke off the bulk of the armour—remember, I didn’t know who **_you_** were, you were on Earth at the time—he was still fighting and protecting his fellow Autobots—so to see his true form impressed me,” Hot Rod explained.   “That was so amazing!”

            “You’ve seen Magnus without his armour……. _entirely_?”   Optimus asked, his vocalizer a soft tone of awe reverberating in it.   “I’ve only seen him without his armour once and maybe that’s only because it was that we came out of Vector Sigma’s chamber together.   Though I was Orion Pax and he was known as _Delta_ , then.   He wasn’t good at groups and I was fairly social and sociable with my friends, so we didn’t linger together long.”

            “That explains a lot,” Hot Rod chuckled.   “Sometimes he’s just very awkward around people—anybody, actually.   But I think he’s probably grown a lot in all the millennia, too.”

            “When he got his first armour, it was about the time I’d been injured and Alpha Trion rebuilt me.   For a little while afterwards, he called himself _‘Delta Magnus’_ and he was with a unit of Autobots who were fighting against the Decepticons out in farther areas on Cybertron.   I believe he changed his name to _‘Ultra Magnus’_ after the commander of his unit had died and he took over,” Optimus explained, quietly.

            “So, after that battle, I went up to him and asked if I could help—and I joined the Autobots after that,” the flame-colored mech said with a fond little smile.   “Unfortunately, the war kept people from getting too close for many reasons and I felt very isolated, even within the Autobots.   As Arrowshot told me, _I broke_ —and I was **_never_** meant to break.   I wasn’t strong enough to bear the Matrix at that time, even though it was _my destiny_ ……….and it’s only because Galvatron sees me as his one-and-only equal that I’ve **_finally_** gained the courage I should have had to begin with.”   Hot Rod rested his chin on his arms and grinned at Optimus Prime.   “I _really_ love him so much, Optimus.   And because my design was meant to _‘translate’_ things—I can translate his odd attentions to me as something that may be his equivalent of _‘love’_ , even though it’s not something like that in the way we all understand it.   It makes people like Springer think I’m in a really bad relationship, even though I’m not.”

            “Hot Rod, you have my apologies.   _None of us_ should ever have allowed you to feel lonely and isolated.   You _chose_ to become an Autobot and we all should have shared a sense of camaraderie with you, simply because of that,” the Autobot Leader said, his voice very sincere.   “Those within the Matrix feel you’re going to be a brilliant Autobot Leader now—and it seems very strange that we have _Galvatron_ , of all mechs, to thank for that,” he added with a light chuckle in his voice.

            “There’s so much we’re going to do in this universe, Optimus—you will _always_ be Optimus Prime to everyone.   Now we just have to show everyone that there **_can_** be two Primes at the same time,” Hot Rod laughed, standing up and putting the chair back where he got it from.   “Equality for all and total respect for one another.   We need to show that to _everyone_.   _‘Prime’_ isn’t just the guy in charge—because half the Autobot Leaders were never even called _‘Prime’_ anyways _—‘Prime’_ is an honorific, much like the way the Japanese have their forms of formal and informal address.”

            “I think **_that_** is a very good way of looking at the name of _‘Prime’_ ,” Optimus said with a chuckle.   “And now, Hot Rod—I think **_this_** …….. _is yours_ ……..” he added, opening up his chestplate and withdrawing the Matrix of Leadership from it.

            Hot Rod took the Matrix and opened his chestplate, placing the ancient object within before closing it back up.   He shuttered his optics and felt the power and the knowledge flow through his frame and felt the alterations it made to him.   _Once again, he was **Rodimus Prime**_.

            And that was the way it was simply meant to be.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Returning to Chaar with his much larger Rodimus Prime frame, however, brought out a lot of whispered (and sometimes gossiped about _very loudly_ ) conversations all around him.   Rodimus didn’t want to frighten his younglings right away, so as soon as Galvatron’s flagship landed on Chaar, he went to speak with Onslaught and Swindle about operations management first of all.   He’d glyphed Carnivac to join him, as now Carnivac would be the chief administrator of the embassy.

            “Well, _I’ll_ miss ya, Prime!”  Swindle said, cheerfully.   “But, ya know, I know you’ll do great out there.   I’m looking forward to when you can get us Decepticons into the Galactic Alliance—I’m gonna get _such sweet stuff_ in my shops after that.”

            “And don’t worry—we’ll make sure the entertainment district is _always_ staffed, because Galvatron wants every Decepticon working and staying out of trouble,” Onslaught chuckled, warmly.   “Cyclonus might be happy you’re not around—until he’s tired of Galvatron fragging him all the time now.   Then he might wish you were back here.”

            “I’ll still be back around on occasion—it’ll be like before, when the accords were forged,” Rodimus chuckled warmly.   “I’ll take a few days leave here and there and come stay on Chaar—if Carnivac will let me guest at the embassy.”

            The Decepticon snorted and lightly punched Rodimus Prime in the arm.   “Since Novablaze is staying at the embassy, you know you and Stormbreaker will be welcome back at any time and your room will be kept open for you—or at least _one room_ in the area will be,” Carnivac laughed softly.

            “I really **_will_** miss all of you guys, I’ve gotten so used to being here with all of you!”   Rodimus sighed, placing his servos on his hips.    “I can’t keep avoiding my children………. _and_ ……….I still don’t know how I’ll explain all this to Stormbreaker.   _It’s_ ……….there’s going to be a _lot of crying_ ,” he murmured, shaking his head softly.   “I should go now, but remember—just send me a message if you guys need me to do anything or talk persuasively to Galvatron.”

            “Will do, Prime!”  Swindle chortled.

            Carnivac and Rodimus Prime walked back to the embassy, chatting with one another.   And they came into the embassy to find Galvatron was already there, with his femmeling mewling and squealing in his arms joyfully.   **_Then_** ……….

            “ _Caaaaaarrrrriiiii_!!!”  Stormbreaker cried with excitement, feeling her carrier’s field.

            Rodimus walked over to the lobby seating area and knelt to hug Novablaze fondly.   “We’ll talk later, Nova, all right?”  The young Autobot Prime murmured, planting a light kiss on the top of his mechling’s helm.

            “I forgot how big you were in _this form_ , cari……….” Novablaze murmured, grinning up at his carrier.

            Rodimus then stood up and walked over to Galvatron, smiling at his lover—now they were of a similar height and could easily look into one another’s optics.   But Stormbreaker had gone quiet, placing one of her servos in her mouth and looking between her sire and carrier with puzzlement.   She _knew_ something was different and she wasn’t quite sure what.

            “Hey, Storm, can I hold you?”  Rodimus asked, lightly holding out his servos towards her.

            Stormbreaker tilted her head and took her servo out of her mouth.  “Cari?”   She murmured, looking up into Rodimus Prime’s faceplate with bewilderment.

            “My Stormbreaker—your carrier wishes to hold you.  Do you not want a hug from your carrier?”  Galvatron said, his voice very stern and very firm.

            The femmeling looked up into her sire’s faceplate and absently waved her damp servo at Rodimus.   “Cari?”   She asked, looking at Galvatron and waved her wet servo in the flame-colored mech’s direction.

            “That is correct.  _That_ is your carrier.   Would you like a hug from your carrier, my Stormbreaker?”  Galvatron asked again, gazing calmly down at her.

            The red-colored femmeling looked between the two mechs again, really confused at why her carrier suddenly looked as big as her sire—but not quite understanding that it was the size difference that was puzzling her.   Rodimus Prime’s field felt just the same as when he had been Hot Rod—the colors were practically the same—overall, there was nothing different but the size right now.   She’d never seen her carrier’s alt mode—except in the races in the entertainment district, but she hadn’t even really understood the flame-colored racecar was her carrier.   The alt mode was a concept she couldn’t really grasp yet.

            Stormbreaker looked up into Rodimus Prime’s faceplate and waved both of her servos up at him.   “ ** _Huuuuuuugggggggggg!!!_** ”   She demanded, smiling at the flame-colored mech.

            Rodimus’ field rippled out with relief as he took his femmeling into his arms and gave her the warmest and most loving hug ever.   “ _I love you, my little Stormbreaker_ ,” the flame-colored mech murmured, kissing the top of her helm as she purred happily in his arms.

            At least there was one hurdle that was overcome.   In a couple of days would come the most difficult hurdle to leap over of them all…………..Rodimus Prime and Galvatron were not quite looking forward to that and were still, yet, uncertain how either of them were going to handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of final notes here........
> 
> 1) I'd been planning to address the Ultra Magnus/armour at sometime here in the G1S3 universe A.U. of mine. I have the toy--and why did he look like a white Optimus Prime? And I can still remember reading the story in the DreamWave Comics and being utterly in awe of how they explained it. The reason I'm bringing it up now, welllllllllll......there are future stories in this A.U. of mine, aren't there? *chuckle*  
> 2) My goal was NOT to do as the Japanese did in "The Headmasters" and kill Optimus Prime off to make Rodimus Prime leader again. Also, there's a bit of a nod to a phrase Hot Rod uses in the S3 episode "Dark Awakening"--except this time Optimus Prime uses it. :)  
> 3) We are almost at the end of this series, BUT DON'T DESPAIR EVERYONE!!! Just like my first series linked to this one--those two series are predecessors to a new series coming soon. "The Prime and the Emperor" will be starting in a couple of months. But to finish off "The Decepticon Emperor and His Autobot Lover" there is one final story........the parting of paths for Galvatron and Rodimus Prime--to go back to the way they had originally begun their relationship.........hang in there for "One Wish" everyone and we'll go out with a heart-wrenching conclusion to this arc of Galvatron and Hot Rod's (Rodimus Prime's) lives. :D  
> 4) Hey readers! Do you have suggestions for Transformers in any universe that have not been used yet? Keep in mind, this is G1 animation-based, so female Autobots like Chromia, Elita-1 and those have all been used by the animation in the 80's. I'm looking for suggestions of characters we haven't had appear yet. Feel free to drop me comments with maybe some of your fan-favorites who haven't appeared yet and I'll work them into my G1S3 A.U. stories!


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